


The Trigger

by moontear



Category: Kingdom Hearts
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-05
Updated: 2018-01-22
Packaged: 2018-11-09 06:46:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 22,673
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11099103
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moontear/pseuds/moontear
Summary: When two people share a paopu fruit, their destinies become intertwined forever. Sora is oblivious to the past life he shared with Riku, and now wanders in a state of limbo, surrounded by familiar faces but pushing everyone away. When his failed relationship with Professor Leonhart takes its toll, he turns to an old friend for help. But can Riku pull them both from the abyss?





	1. Propeller

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Kingdom Hearts, nor am I making any money off this fanfiction.

 

"You want me to _what_?"

 

Sora swallowed as Riku's icy green eyes penetrated straight through him. It was like the other man was looking at his soul, something that didn't happen very often anymore. The dangerous tone he'd affected wasn't helping matters, either. Sora fidgeted in his seat, suddenly feeling fifteen again, like when he'd deflated Riku's favorite basketball.

 

"You heard me…" Sora took several deep breaths, held each one and counted to five before releasing them. Riku studied him across the small table between them, slouched down, his tray of food untouched.

 

Feeling unusually cowardly, Sora dropped his eyes to his chocolate milkshake. Perspiration covered the thin cardboard containing it, sliding down to make a ring of water on the surface of the table. Beside the duo, screaming children ran through a giant play tube area, drowning out their conversation from prying ears. It was the primary reason Sora had chosen this place. The other was that because last Sora knew, this was Riku's favorite fast food joint when he had the munchies.

 

Oh, man. This was a horrible idea. Riku was never going to go along with it. Sora needed to cut his losses now and bail.

 

 _Time to spit it out,_ he thought.

 

Taking his last deep breath, he leveled his eyes on Riku's. Riku remained unflinching, his lips thinned, his gaze unwavering. The guy could have made a cactuar freeze in place, unable to run away, something the needled green creatures were known for. That was all right. Sora had been dealing with Riku's Power Ice Stares all his life.

 

"I said I want you to pretend you're my boyfriend."

 

Riku slid his aviators on, shutting out the world behind black lenses, and grabbed his keys and wallet off the table. Pocketing them, he strode off without a backwards glance. His French fries were still steaming.

 

"Hey, wait!" Sora's chair scraped against the linoleum as he rushed after the other man. He gripped Riku's elbow, effectively stopping him. Riku kept himself facing forward, letting Sora have his elbow. Sora knew he only had moments. "Just—just hear me out, okay?"

 

Those were the wrong words. Riku wrested himself free, straightened his T-shirt, and headed for the restaurant doors. His silver ponytail bobbed slightly in his hurried pace. Sora stared after him, exasperated, then looked back down to his own burger and fries. He reached down forlornly, munching on a fry and sighing around it.

 

Damn it. It wasn't supposed to go that way at _all_.

 

* * *

 

 

Three hours later, Sora was slumped on the couch in Tidus' basement, staring up at the ceiling as his friend strummed on his guitar. Selphie had her textbooks on the floor, and was sprawled on her stomach with massive headphones secured over her ears. Wakka was somewhere upstairs, talking to his girlfriend Lulu on the phone. It was a scene that happened just about every afternoon, except this time Sora was experiencing dread.

 

"He said no, I take it?" Tidus pulled his pen from his mouth and jotted something down on the sheet music in front of him. His blond bangs were hanging into his eyes, in desperate need of a trim. Yuna usually took it upon herself to cut his hair for him, but she was abroad this semester, enjoying the pleasures of Paris.

 

"He didn't say anything," Sora mumbled. "He just walked out." He could feel a spring from the old couch digging into the small of his back. It was uncomfortable, but he didn't feel like moving. His limbs felt too heavy to move them, and the migraine developing behind his right eye was threatening mutiny.

 

"That's a no, Sora." Tidus stuck his pen back in his mouth and made another strum on his guitar.

 

"Yeah, but he didn't _say_ no…"

 

The blond boy just shook his head and didn't answer. Sadly, Sora was getting used to that.

 

Selphie pulled her headphones around her neck, her pencil paused above her math homework. "Hey, Sora. Are you guys talking about Riku?"

 

"Yeah…"

 

"He said no?"

 

"No, he just walked out."

 

Selphie chewed her lip in thought, not immediately dismissing him as Tidus had. Then she pushed herself into a sitting position, carefully tucking her knees behind her so her dress wouldn't ride up. "He walked out, huh…?" Her eyes were distant.

 

Sora frowned at her, wondering what was going on in that quick head of hers. "Yeah…"

 

The petite brunette held up a finger. "You _did_ break his heart—when was it…? About three years ago?"

 

"Awh, c'mon, Selphie, that was so long ago! He's still not over it?" Sora swung his legs over the edge of the sofa. His migraine throbbed hotly. Sora shut his eyes and tried not to think about how much it was bothering him. "We were still in high school then!"

 

"Riku was in love with you for years, Sora," she replied, frowning at his insensitivity. "And then the second he asks you out, you turn him down because you claim you're not gay."

 

Sora slanted his eyes away, grumbling something indecipherable.

 

"Then the next thing _you_ know, you're sleeping with your creative writing professor… _He_ gets a boyfriend, and so, in an effort to try and make him jealous, you decide to approach your ex-best friend and ask him to pretend to be _your_ boyfriend… even though neither of you has really spoken to each other since you crushed his heart…"

 

Biting his lip, Sora drummed his fingers on the sofa's edge. "When you put it like that… it does sound pretty bad." He sighed. "But I just don't know what else to do!"

 

"Try not being a dick." Selphie leaned forward to shut her textbooks and gather up her papers. She shuffled them all into her messenger bag.

 

"Hey, where are you going?"

 

Tidus stopped strumming his guitar as Sora posed the question, no doubt also curious. Selphie looked at them, threw up her hands, and marched upstairs. Sora gaped at Tidus, expecting an explanation, but his fairer-haired buddy didn't have one. Disgusted with the uselessness of the day, Sora plopped back down on the sofa. That spider spindling a web had moved.

 

 _Maybe she's right,_ Sora thought, biting at his nails. His black rubber bracelets slid down his arm, a match to the chipping nail polish he wore. _Maybe I should have thought this through more carefully_.

 

But whenever he closed his eyes, all he could see was Professor Leonhart— _Squall_ —staring at him with those smoky gray eyes, and his heart would hurt so badly… He _had_ to pay that man back, he had to! It was unacceptable that the older man thought he could play with Sora's emotions so thoroughly. It was unacceptable that Sora had to sit there day after day, pretending like nothing had happened between them.

 

Sora knew he could go to the Board and get Squall fired… It'd be the easiest solution, and the perfect revenge. But that wouldn't break his heart. And if Sora couldn't stomp Squall's heart into the ground, then Squall would never come close to understanding what he had done to Sora.

 

And he _had_ to understand…

 

* * *

 

 

It was nearly midnight when Sora heard someone banging on his apartment door. He paused, on his bed with his earbuds in, Phoenix crooning away softly to help him through his next creative writing piece due in a week's time. He thumped his pen on his notebook where it rested on his knees and wondered if maybe his mind had been playing tricks on him.

 

Then the knock came again, louder and more desperate.

 

Sora yanked his earphones out, clad only in his boxers as he made his way across his dirty living room. A pizza box was left open on the coffee table, along with several empty soda cans, and the TV was muted, showing some policemen on a wild car chase. He hadn't had company in a few days, so he hadn't felt the need to clean up. Now he was regretting that decision.

 

When he opened all the locks and peeped the door open a crack, he found Riku looking in at him, breathing raggedly.

 

"Ri—"

 

The taller boy shoved the door open, brushing past Sora. He looked curtly around the living room and the dirtier kitchen, and at the ajar bedroom door in the back of the one bedroom apartment. Then he licked his lips and stuffed his fists into his pockets. Sora noted that his Converses were untied, like he'd hastily shoved them on.

 

"Riku?" Sora shut the door behind him, leaning against it. He was in a state of disbelief. After watching the silver-haired boy walk away during lunch earlier, he hadn't expected to see him again for quite some time apart from the few classes they shared.

 

"I got your address from Kairi." Riku breathed in sharply through his nose, as though gathering his composure. "She said you were usually up til two."

 

Sora's mouth hung open a little. "You still talk to Kai?"

 

At this, Riku sent him a nasty glare as he whirled on him. Sora shrank back against the door, then forced his shoulders to straighten. He wasn't afraid of Riku. He hadn't been since they were about eleven and twelve. But in the face of Riku's anger, he had to remind himself of that.

 

"Don't be stupid, Sora, of course I do."

 

"Well—well, how is she?" Sora took an uneven step toward the taller guy. "I haven't talked to her in—"

 

"Months? Yeah, I know." Riku was staring down at the coffee table. "Are you trying to be a stereotypical bachelor, Sora, or have you just forgotten how to clean?"

 

Offended, his ears burning red, Sora grabbed up some of the trash and went to the kitchen to dispose of it. He huffed the entire way. How _dare_ Riku show up in the middle of the night, and then comment on the state of his apartment? It wasn't like he'd been expecting anyone!

 

"What are you doing here, Riku?" he asked when he came back into the living room.

 

Riku was quiet for a time, his hands still tucked into his pockets, his eyes resolutely on the coffee table. Then he shook his head. "Why me?"

 

Sora wished he could have pretended he didn't know what the other boy was talking about. "I just… I—I don't know." He put his hands to his head. "Look, Riku, I'm sorry. I was an asshole earlier to ask that of you. I'm just—not myself lately… Can we just… pretend that I didn't?"

 

"No."

 

Startled at his answer, Sora jerked. "What?"

 

"I know you want to pretend to be boyfriends because you want to make Professor Leonhart jealous." At Sora's gaping expression, Riku smirked, just a tiny, smug uplift at the corner of his mouth. "C'mon, Sora. Everyone sees how you look at that guy."

 

Sora bit his lip. "They do, huh?" That was… not such a great piece of information. If anything, it made him feel even more ridiculous than he had before this whole thing started.

 

"C'mon, Sora, what's really going on here?" Riku settled himself on the soft leather sofa Sora's mother had given him his first year in university. "You're not the type to take revenge…"

 

At that, Sora pushed his fingers in his hair and turned away from the other boy. In his mind's eye, he could clearly see Squall above him, his chocolate bangs hanging into those stormy eyes of his, his lips parted in concentration. Sweat clung to his furrowed brows, and he tilted his head back on his broad shoulders, a groan rumbling in his throat. Beneath him, all Sora could do was cling on.

 

Knowing it was only going to upset him to keep thinking about the past, Sora shook the memory free.

 

"You're just—different…" Riku pressed. "It started in high school, right when we were about to graduate. You're some other person now."

 

"People change."

 

"But not you, Sora, and not for the worst… Something happened…" Sora could feel Riku behind him now, the taller boy's hands on his shoulders. Riku's voice dropped an octave, close to Sora's ear. "You pushed me away—you pushed Kairi away…"

 

Suddenly, Riku's fingers came up around Sora's chest and snagged onto his necklace. He wrenched it free, causing Sora to cry out in pain. Sora whirled to find Riku dangling his crown necklace before his eyes.

 

"I gave this to you for your birthday. It kills me every day to see that you're still wearing it. _Why_ , Sora?" Riku's eyes were narrowed, looking all the more like the predator as he had earlier that afternoon. "We're not friends anymore, so why?"

 

Sora's throat grew dry, and no matter how many times he swallowed, it wasn't clearing the acid taste in his mouth. "What do you want, Ri?"

 

The silver-haired youth laughed, his lashes hanging low over his eyes. He rubbed over his chin, shaking his head slowly back and forth. "…Ri. You haven't called me that in forever. What's it been now? Two years?"

 

"I guess…"

 

Riku's voice grew even softer. "I've been having these weird dreams, Sora. For a long time. I feel like I'm going crazy, maybe."

 

Confused at the sudden change in subject, Sora arched his brows. "Dreams about what?"

 

"Dreams about… another life, maybe. A life where I did something horrible—a life where you tried to save me, and… now, I'm just—living out my punishment." Riku blinked and looked up, as though abruptly realizing what he was saying was making no sense. "That's why I came over here tonight. I—I had another… fragment…"

 

"Fragment?"

 

Riku paced toward the door. "I thought—I thought maybe…"

 

"Riku, are you okay?" Concerned for his former friend, Sora gripped his elbow. "You look like you haven't slept in a while…" Now that Sora was paying attention, he could see the shadows beneath Riku's eyes, great big ones, bruises on his fair skin.

 

"Isn't it strange, Sora? That I start piecing together these dreams… no, _memories_ … and then you approach me and—" Riku sucked in a breath. "It just doesn't feel like coincidence."

 

"Okay, Ri, you're starting to scare me…" His throat tight, Sora guided Riku back over to the sofa, but Riku wrenched away, shaking himself.

 

"I'll be your pretend boyfriend, Sora." He thrust Sora's crown necklace into the palm of his hand. "But if we're doing this, we're doing it _my_ way. Meet me tomorrow at the coffee shop on the campus…"

 

"Ri, wait—"

 

But Riku was out the door, shutting it firmly behind him.

 

Sora blinked, looking down at his necklace.

 

_Okay…_

 

Wondering if he, too, was dreaming, he wandered back into his bedroom to complete that writing assignment.


	2. Heartless

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The lyrics to the song Everybody Talks belongs to Neon Trees.

 

Sora was in trouble.

 

"Riku!" he screamed, spinning his Keyblade as he fended off the neo heartless. Their shadowy forms broke apart in wisps at the touch of his weapon. It left a sort of veil around him, nearly obscuring him from Riku's view.

 

In trouble himself, Riku sent a panicked look for Donald and Goofy, his own Keyblade slicing cleanly through his enemies. Above, Kingdom Hearts loomed ominously above the city towers, nearly complete if Xehanort got his way. They didn't have _time_ for this. Where were those two guardians of King Mickey's when Sora and Riku needed them?

 

His breath fogged the air in front of him, a testament to how chilly the darkness made everything. Beneath his Organization coat, his skin was covered in gooseflesh. But he was used to it. Sora, he imagined, was not. Neither was he used to this city, this city that Riku had infiltrated before—this city where he had fought side by side with Roxas, where the two had then turned on one another and dueled.

 

Roxas, damaged irreparably by the loss of Xion, and though Riku felt that loss, too, he had experienced Kairi's warmth. He had the real thing, not some phantom memory.

 

Lightning flashed overhead, thunder rumbling in the clouds that surrounded the Castle That Never Was. Riku swallowed heavily, his teeth gritted as he took out three heartless that attempted to jump him. The neo heartless were the worst. Those golden eyes penetrated into your very soul, into the light you held within you.

 

Finally, he heard a squawk, and heat raced past his cheek as a fireball knocked into several heartless behind him.

 

"Go, Riku!"

 

Taking the opportunity and not having time to thank Donald for his save, Riku dove through the gap in the heartless. His feet pounded against the pavement as he raced to Sora's side. He skidded to a stop, taking out a heartless along the way, and rose to come back to back with Sora. Together, the two watched the encroaching heartless warily, their weapons before them.

 

"Thought you weren't coming," Sora panted.

 

"I'll never leave you behind again, Sora," Riku promised, his fingers tightening on his own Keyblade. "Let's do this."

 

With a yell, both boys lunged into the thick of their attackers, swinging wildly with the intent to kill and the desperate desire to protect everyone and everything from the darkness. Xehanort couldn't be allowed to win. He just couldn't.

 

And Riku knew, deep down, that he would do anything to protect Sora. If only the other boy knew how much he cared… Then maybe none of this would have happened… But that was the sort of thinking that had landed him in deep waters to begin with.

 

 _I love you!_ he thought fiercely, twisting and running his blade through a heartless. Its eyes yellow eyes glowed for a space of a breath, and then it was gone, its captured heart flying up. Riku cursed. Every time they killed one, they just helped Xehanort even more, but what were they supposed to _do_?

 

"Run, Riku! I made an opening!"

 

Riku twisted again, spotting Sora dashing ahead of him, and he followed suit before he could get left behind. He looked over his shoulder in time to see heartless swarming over the circle they had just vacated. They were endless in this place, they were endless in their pursuit for Sora and Riku's live, beating hearts.

 

But they could do this.

 

They would win.

 

They just would.

 

* * *

 

 

Riku came awake yelling, covered in sweat and clutching his pillow. It took him several moments to orient himself, and by then, he was gasping for breath, his throat raw. He realized he was sitting up, and his heart was beating too fast for his liking, so he closed his eyes and concentrated.

 

Another memory.

 

He was _sure_ it was more memory than dream, mostly because his dreams had never been so _vivid_. He literally could feel himself there, in that moment. Everything he experienced was sharp, crystal clear. There were no vague, foggy patches in places when he woke up. Dreams weren't that real. They weren't.

 

Starting to shake, he abandoned his pillow and put his face in his hands. The problem with the dreams being so real was that they were terrifying in their own way. Sometimes, rarely, he had good memories—seeing Sora sun-kissed, grinning at him broadly, racing him around the island they used to play on when they were little. Most of the time, though, he got stuck with the dark ones.

 

Creatures called heartless. The darkness that wanted to take you. And it _had_ taken him, it had corrupted him, and he—

 

His breath catching, Riku shook his head. On nights like this… he thought he was going to go crazy.

 

The dreams had started years ago, in his last year of high school, and they had yet to stop. He felt like someone was trying to tell him something, but who that person was or what the message was, he had no idea. He was as lost now as he had been at the start.

 

He turned his head slightly to see his alarm. It was four in the morning. Great. He had an early appointment and he needed to try and get _some_ rest. So far, though, he'd had two dreams, and there was no telling if another one would disturb him when he tried to go back to bed. He hated how unpredictable they were.

 

Resigning himself to an exhausting day ahead, he flopped back on his bed and pulled his pillow over his head. Long after he'd shut his eyes, he could still see himself fighting side by side with Sora. Though the images were disturbing, it brought him a certain sense of warmth to know that they were so close.

 

_Sora… what happened to you…?_

* * *

 

 

"And you said the two of you were fighting off monsters?"

 

"Heartless," Riku corrected. "And yeah."

 

Dr. Ansem hummed in his throat and jotted something down in his notes. Riku hated it when he did that. He always thought that maybe the elderly man was writing _appears quite sane, but is clearly delusional…_

 

After several minutes had passed, Dr. Ansem finally stopped scribbling. He set his pen aside and steepled his fingers before him. He looked at Riku from beneath his great, white brows. Riku already knew what was coming. An assignment.

 

"I want you to do something for me, Riku."

 

"Uh…" Riku shifted in his seat. "Okay."

 

"I want you to start writing down these dreams when you wake up. We only see each other once a month, and by the time you get to me, I'm afraid I don't get the entire…" He paused, searching for a word. "Picture. I think it would be beneficial to the both of us."

 

Though it would take a bit of effort, Riku could understand this line of reasoning, so he nodded. He, of course, didn't mention the notes of his own he'd already made.

 

"And how is the Zoloft treating you? Dr. Mouse said he had to increase your dosage?"

 

"Uh… yeah, I was still feeling a bit down about some stuff, and moody." Riku hated describing himself like this, but his mother had been sending him to Dr. Ansem since he was fifteen. He'd had a relationship with this facility, this office, for six years now.

 

Dr. Ansem was the most esteemed therapist on the islands, and while he had had several opportunities to take root in better-paying cities, he'd opted to remain here. Destiny Islands had its own treasure trove of discovery, though, Riku thought. Aside from the beautiful tropic environment—to tourists, as Riku personally had trouble with the heat in peak summer season—there were cities here that some people spent their whole life dreaming about visiting.

 

Riku tilted his head back, studying the ceiling.

 

"Something on your mind, Riku?"

 

"This is going to sound… contrived or something, maybe even 'whiny,' but—I was just thinking about how much I hate my legacy."

 

"Your legacy?"

 

"My family's… money."

 

"Ah," Dr. Ansem chuckled knowingly, "the _Whidmore_ Legacy. I can observe your line of thought in this. It must be tiring, interning at your father's business offices?"

 

"No, it's not that, it's just…" Riku furrowed his brows, touching his thumb to the corner of his mouth. He wasn't sure if he should say more. He just knew in this other life he lived in his sleep that the parents he had now? They weren't always his parents.

 

But he really didn't want to wind up in the psych ward.

 

Fortunately, at that moment he spotted the time. "Don't you have an appointment after me?" Riku got to his feet, holding out his hand for a perfunctory shake with the old man. "I'll make sure to keep up with a dream diary."

 

Five minutes later, as Riku was making his way out of the office, he brushed past Roxas.

 

Their eyes met.

 

Then Roxas calmly slid his eyes away, entering Dr. Ansem's office and leaving Riku to continue out of it. Riku bit his lip, thinking about how Sora still had no idea that his brother had started attending therapy sessions in the last year. It made Riku wonder. Roxas seemed so put together in front of everyone else.

 

But then again, so did Riku.

 

* * *

 

_Hey, baby, won't you look my way? I can be your new addiction, hey, baby, what you gotta say? All you're giving me is fiction. I'm a sorry sucker, and this happens all the time. I've found out that everybody talks, everybody talks, everybody talks…_

 

Riku turned down the volume on his radio and picked up his phone. His mother was calling, and he knew if he didn't answer now, she'd blow up his phone for the next ten minutes, regardless of the fact that he was driving.

 

"Hey, Mom." He rolled to a stop at the traffic light on University Boulevard and Paopu Street, flipping on his blinker. "What's up?"

 

"You didn't call me to tell me how your appointment went this morning." Riku could hear something going on in the background. It sounded like a blender. Was she baking again? Great. He was going to be expected at dinner tonight.

 

But that gave him an idea…

 

"Sorry, Mom, I was a bit busy." Riku rested his free arm over the side of his car door. The heated metal made his skin itch, but he didn't remove it. "I had a few classes immediately after, and then I had to pick up some dry cleaning." He never explained himself this much to _anybody_. Only his mother had that privilege, and that was fairly because Riku didn't want to listen to the bitching.

 

"Okay… Well, how did it go?"

 

He drummed his fingers on the side of his yellow Mustang. Why didn't his mother ever get to the point? "Is there something you wanted, Mom? I'm about to be at campus, and you know the signal there sucks."

 

She sighed so heavily that the line crackled. "Yeah. Can you be at the house for dinner tonight?" Though she phrased it as a question, Riku knew better.

 

"Sure, Mom. I gotta go, okay?" He hung up before she could say anything else. There was just something about his parents that had always set his teeth on edge. In an effort to fix this, his mother sent him to therapy. Six years later, and there still wasn't any resolution.

 

 _It started with a whisper, and that was when I kissed her, and then she made my lips hurt. I could hear the chit chat, take me to your love shack, mommas always gotta backtrack when everybody talks back…_ his radio crooned as he turned it back up.

 

It was only a handful of minutes later that he pulled onto the campus. He parked near the English department, as the coffee shop he'd referenced to Sora wasn't so far of a walk. On his way, fellow classmates waved in recognition, and Riku gave them all slight nods of acknowledgment. It was habit to keep everyone at arms' length. That was why Sora had been so special to him. Sora was one of only two people he had never felt the desire to lock out.

 

Palm trees that lined the sidewalks swayed lightly in the breezes. It wasn't as gusty of a day as it normally was, and the zoning magic lines surrounding the campus kept monsters out. This island didn't usually have a problem with an infestation, but it never hurt to be too careful. There was one recorded instance of a student being attacked, and that had been enough. Especially considering how fatal the incident had been.

 

The coffee shop was mostly empty, something that surprised Riku. He ordered a frozen caramel beverage to help battle the heat, then found himself a seat toward the back of the room. From here, he could watch who was coming and going. It was a sign of paranoia, Riku knew, yet he had never been able to shake it. Paranoia was something he'd lived with all his life.

 

He was probably more screwed up than his mother had any idea about, but he preferred to protect her from that tidbit of knowledge.

 

He didn't have to wait long. Three o'clock on the dot, Sora was there. Considering he was never on time, Riku had to wonder if he was nervous. His thoughts on this were confirmed when he got a firmer look at Sora.

 

The younger man was dressed in a pair of khaki cargo shorts, with a red T-shirt that had their university's name across it, along with numbers on the back. Sora played for the soccer team, and he wasn't afraid to broadcast this. He had yet to remove the chipping nail polish he'd donned a week ago, and his usual black bracelets were wound around his wrist.

 

He was chewing his thumbnail now as he looked around the coffee shop. A moment later, his eyes landed on Riku. Relief—why relief? Riku wondered—flickered over his big blue eyes, and then he was making his way over to Riku's table. Riku kicked the chair across from him, and Sora landed in it when he arrived.

 

He kept biting at his nails as he looked at Riku.

 

"Haven't smoked in a bit?" Riku asked with an upraised brow. He wasn't referring to cigarettes.

 

"Nah, I'm trying to quit, but now I can't seem to stop biting my nails." Sora presented them for Riku's inspection, a careless grin on his mouth. Riku tried to pretend it didn't hurt to see it there. "See? Tried to do the nail polish thing like Olette suggested, but yeah, no luck so far, and there's no way I'm putting on fake nails."

 

"That'd be pretty funny, though." Riku allowed himself a chortle as he imagined it.

 

"Yeah… Hey, so…" Sora folded his arms on the table, his head tilted in earnest. "Tidus was wondering—how come you didn't respond to his party invite?"

 

"Because I'm not going."

 

"Uh… how come?"

 

"Look, Sora, I can't really, um… mix alcohol with antidepressants."

 

Sora's eyes grew wide for a fraction of a second. "Since when have you been on antidepressants?"

 

"Since I was fifteen."

 

"I never knew about this!"

 

"That's because I didn't want you to know!" Riku barely kept himself from exploding. "Look, Sora." He laid a firm hand on the table. "There's a reason why we're here, right? To be pretend boyfriends?"

 

Sora looked like he wanted to argue on the subject change, but he nodded submissively in the end. "Yeah…"

 

"Okay." Riku took a breath, released it. "I don't have too many ground rules to lay… We don't have to kiss if you don't want to, but we _do_ have to act like a real couple, and that means doing couple-y things. So—we're going to my parents' house tonight." He rose from the table, his drink in hand. He'd intended to speak more about all of this, but Sora's presence was setting his nerves too much on edge. "Be there at seven."

 

"Wha—? Riku, wait—"

 

"And—Sora? Don't be late."

 

"Hey, this is like déjà vu, you did this same crap to me yesterday! Don't you know how to, like… make a normal departure, and not something so abrupt?" Sora made his fingers walk on air to emphasize his point.

 

"Not real interested." Riku slid his aviators on. Time to go before he did something he might regret, like go off on his friend. _Former friend,_ he always had to remind himself.

 

"Riku!" Sora leapt to his feet, gripping Riku's hand this time instead of his elbow. "Wait a minute…" Smiling mischievously, he leaned up, pressing a kiss to the corner of Riku's mouth. Riku felt his heart nearly stop, his breath stutter. "I'll see you tonight, babe."

 

All eyes in the shop were on them.

 

Riku gently disengaged himself, trying not to be too obvious when he bolted for the door. He didn't allow himself to breathe again until he was safely locked in his car, already sweating in the heat that had collected in his absence.

 

Oh, good God.

 

Maybe this hadn't been such a great idea, after all.

 

He clenched his eyes shut and rested his forehead against his blistering hot steering wheel.


	3. Legacy

What to wear, what to wear?

 

Music blared in the background as Sora dug through his closet, intent on finding the proper outfit for tonight. Riku's parents were very rich, and Sora didn't want to seem underdressed. Though he'd known the Whidmores all his life—his father being friends with Riku's parents—he wasn't about to take any chances. He hadn't seen them since high school graduation, and he wanted to make a good impression.

 

It was the first time, he thought, that he _cared_ about something…

 

Selphie bounced on his bed, ever present. She'd taken up the task of his guardian, whether or not Sora wanted her to be. "Okay, sooo—let me ask you something, Sora."

 

"Uh huh," he answered distractedly, tossing a ratty sneaker over his shoulder. Where was it, where was it, where _was it_ …

 

"Ack, hey, I'm right here, you know!"

 

"Oh, sorry," he said without any feeling. Coming up with a pair of dress shoes, he shucked them to the side til he needed them. Then he proceeded to attack the pile of shirts bundled in the far corner of his closet. There was a dress shirt in there _somewhere_ …

 

"Do you reaaaally think revenge is such a good game plan?"

 

Sora finally gave her his attention, though his expression was blank as he crouched in his closet. "Why wouldn't it be?"

 

"Well…" She tilted her head, her green eyes large and round. Was she trying to appear innocent? "It just doesn't seem like you, that's all."

 

Frustration gathering in the pit of his chest, Sora turned back to the task at hand. Why did people keep bringing that up? It was starting to become _really_ annoying, in fact. He was who he was. If they didn't like it, they could make new friends.

 

A second later, he spotted a bit of white. Triumphantly, he pulled it out for Selphie's examination.

 

" _That_ needs to be ironed," she said, looking almost afraid of the wrinkled disaster. "In fact, I'll go do that right now." Seemingly glad for an excuse to be out of the room, she snatched the shirt out of his hand with birdlike fingers and marched into the living room. Sora quietly wished her good luck in actually finding an iron.

 

His dress slacks, he was glad to discover, were one of the few pieces of clothing still on a hangar. The fold on top, however, was covered in dust, and he wrinkled his nose. He patted it off the best he could. It really didn't look too bad after that. Satisfied, he tossed them into the living room where Selphie was.

 

"Ack! Sora, _stop_ attacking me with your clothes!"

 

Ignoring her, Sora wiggled onto his stomach and stuck his head under his bed. His arm swept through the debris of socks and underwear, his emergency stash of green, and finally landed on his tie. It was a skinny tie that he'd lifted from Roxas' dresser before they'd gone off to university. This, too, was added to the ironing list.

 

"Sora, do you take care of _anything_?" He could hear the hiss of steam from the iron Selphie must have unearthed. He had no idea how it had gotten there. Maybe his dad had snuck it in with his things. It would be like him. Or, rather, it would be like the family maid.

 

"I take care of my writing," Sora replied. It was true. All of his writing was put away delicately, locked up in a drawer, in special folders. Some of that paper hadn't seen the light of day in eons. Sora liked it better that way.

 

By the time Selphie was finished ironing, Sora had taken a shower and done something with his spikes. He rinsed his hands of hair gel and went to investigate. Selphie was going through his playlist, no doubt preferring something else to listen to by now. Sora had put his favorite band's discography on an hour ago, and it was probably grating on her.

 

Since his clothes were laid out for him on the bed, he kept his grip on his towel and gathered them up with one arm. Selphie tutted, and Sora grudgingly gave her a thank you before ducking back into the bathroom. He looked good, he had to admit as he gazed at himself afterward. But something seemed to be missing…

 

Lips swishing to the side, he called his friend in to help.

 

"A belt," she said immediately. "I already polished your dress shoes for you."

 

It struck Sora then that she didn't have to do all of this for him. Impulsively, he reached forward and pulled her into a hug. She yelped, surprised, but returned it, quickly warming to the idea. Sora couldn't remember the last time they had done this, and he mused on that as he rested his chin on her head.

 

"Thanks, Selph. You've been a big help."

 

She poked his side. "Now _that_ sounds more like the Sora I know."

 

He ignored this comment. It was easier that way. "I don't have a belt, though. I guess I can borrow one from Hayner." A mutual friend of his brother's since childhood, Hayner lived right down the hall, _and_ they were about the same size. It was the most obvious choice.

 

Bass reached his ears halfway down the hall, and his eyebrows rose. Tidus' party was already underway? It was only six-thirty! Well, it wasn't his problem, he thought as he reached the door and knocked. It took a second, but Hayner answered the door, his eyebrows rising when he saw Sora.

 

"I thought Tidus said you weren't coming?" He narrowed his eyes in suspicion.

 

"I'm not." Sora pushed past him and began to make his way through the throng of people already gathered. Tidus was on the couch with his guitar, surrounded—as usual—by a flock of girls. Sora supposed since Yuna wasn't there, and Tidus wasn't going to actually cheat on her, it didn't hurt anybody for Tidus to bask in the attention.

 

The lights were off in the living room, leaving only red and orange lights strung up everywhere that created an ambiance in sync with the music that was on. Sora didn't really care for it, and he stepped over a spilled bag of chips and some idiot clutching his sides with laughter. He had a goal: get to the bedroom, then skedaddle.

 

"Hey, asshole!" Hayner was hot on his heels. "What are you on about? You can't just show up after ignoring my texts for a week!"

 

Sora waved a dismissive hand, ducking into Hayner's relatively empty room. Olette was sitting on the bed, legs crossed as she chewed on a pen and stewed over her homework. At the arrival of Sora, she brightened, but a glance from Hayner shushed her. Gathering up her things and setting them to the side, she beat it out of the room.

 

Hayner thumped the door closed behind them. "Out with it."

 

"Out with that?" Sora pursed his lips as he examined the room. He spotted the dresser and went for it, but Hayner slid into his path. "Man, c'mon, I just came to borrow a belt."

 

"No." The blond boy crossed his arms. He looked downright vicious, like he was spoiling for a fight. It made Sora sigh. He didn't have _time_ for this BS. "You ignore me for a week, you ignore Kai for two months… You hang out with _them_ instead of us." He jerked a thumb at his chest. "You're not getting a belt til you spill what's up."

 

"Nothing is _up_." Sora scowled at him.

 

Hayner suddenly laughed. "You look just like him."

 

"I'm sure I do," Sora muttered.

 

The bedroom door banged open, and Seifer was there, his own blond hair askew and his cheeks a little ruddy from alcohol. When he saw Hayner, his green eyes glittered and his lips pulled into a familiar smirk. Hayner's mouth dropped open in surprise, and before anyone could do anything, Seifer had him in an arm lock up against the wall.

 

"So you think you're straight now, is that it?" Seifer purred as Hayner struggled, to no avail. Though intoxicated, Seifer had him pinned. "Gonna start dating that Kairi girl to make me jelly?"

 

Taking this as his cue to get what he needed and bail, Sora confiscated a belt from the top drawer. He was gone before Seifer had time to realize he was there.

 

Seifer's words, on the other hand, gave him a lot to ponder. Hayner was dating Kairi now? Had it really been that long since Sora had hung out with all of them? Was he really that out of the loop?

 

Better yet… Seifer and Hayner were arch enemies. They'd bumped heads for as long as Sora could remember. Now, suddenly, they—? Sora shook his head. He had too much on his mind to worry about all of that drama.

 

Tidus twisted around on the couch when he saw Sora passing. "Hey! Is Riku coming?"

 

"Uh—I don't know," Sora answered. Shit, he had to get out of here or he was going to be super late for the Whidmores' dinner. With a salute, he ducked out the front door.

 

* * *

 

 

The clock on his dash said he had two minutes to spare when he pulled up into the Whidmores' driveway. Sora shut off the engine to his Jeep, climbing out and straightening his clothes. He looked up—and up some more. The Whidmore's home was gianormous, to say the least.

 

It was four stories, a shade of pale blue and trimmed in white. The house itself was very old, having been in the Whidmore family for generations, but one wouldn't be able to tell just by looking at it. It was remodeled on the inside each season, and there was a team employed by the Whidmores themselves for maintenance repair.

 

The lawn met the neighborhood's standards, each blade of grass cut perfectly within an inch of length. Tropical flower beds had been put to rest for the fall, but the bushes on the perimeter that bordered the house and driveway still flourished. The driveway itself was a sparkling white, constantly power washed to stay clear of oil drips and dirt from tires. It looped around at the four door garage, which was currently open to display the Whidmores' cars.

 

Mr. Whidmore's Bentley, Mrs. Whidmore's shining black Mercedes, Larsa Whidmore's cherry red Ferrari, and, of course, Riku's yellow Mustang with its black stripes. Riku didn't live there anymore, preferring his own apartment last Sora had heard, but the fourth parking spot was always reserved for him.

 

Out back, a path of gravel cutting through bushes that led out from the massive porch would take a visitor straight to the beach. Destiny Islands rarely saw hurricane behavior where they were located, a blanket effect in the atmosphere that made it to where the worst of bad storms skimmed around them. It made for yearly pleasant views of the sparkling blue waters known to their islands, except when the beach eroded away come wintertime.

 

Sora stepped up to the front door and knocked. He didn't have to wait long at all. It seemed his knuckles had just brushed the solid oak when it opened to reveal Riku. The taller man grabbed him by the arm and dragged him inside. Sora yelped, caught off guard, and wrestled himself free. What the hell!

 

Ignoring his outrage, Riku furrowed his brows and began to circle Sora. In a matter of moments, he had completely straightened Sora's outfit, from his tie, to his belt, to the collar of his shirt, to tucking his shirt in more at the back. At this last, Sora bristled again, raising a fist to deck Riku if he kept it up.

 

Riku arched a brow at him. He, too, was dressed appropriately for the event, similar to Sora, except his tie wasn't a skinny one. He nodded at Sora, then jerked his head. Together, they left the grand foyer.

 

A staircase rose to Sora's left, winding in a circle through the different floors. To his right was a parlor, along with the dining room and a hallway that led to the rest of the first floor. It was in that dining room, which they were passing through now, that Sora felt a pang. Every afternoon with Riku, from elementary school until high school, they'd done their homework there.

 

Talk about lost days.

 

They reached the kitchen, and Sora's stomach grumbled loudly at the aroma of food. Aqua walked past them, smiling as she carried food into the dining room. She had on a white lace apron over her dinner dress, and her short hair was pulled back into an ornate clip with a butterfly on it. Her presence made Sora long for those lost days again, and he mustered up a smile of his own.

 

"What do you want to drink, Aqua? The usual?"

 

"Yes, please."

 

Sora looked over his shoulder, spotting Terra by the small rolling bar that had been set up. A clear white tub of ice, bottles of alcohol, an ice tong, and crystal glasses. Riku's father began making a concoction for his wife, notably not offering drinks to Larsa and Sora, who _technically_ weren't old enough to drink. Riku was, but obviously didn't want to, based on that conversation in the coffee shop just hours ago.

 

Speaking of Riku's younger brother, he was setting up the table with their best silverware. The Whidmores liked to cook on their own because they felt like it made them more of a family. They did, however, have a maid who came in and cleaned every day.

 

Sora surveyed Larsa for a moment. He took after Terra, whereas Riku had more of Aqua's elegant features. Either way, the two brothers got along well enough, better than Sora and _his_ brother… not that that was really saying all that much. Roxas and Sora were rather legendary from their battles of brotherhood.

 

"Hey, there, Sora," Terra said once he spotted him. "Riku said you were coming." His smile was as warm as Aqua's had been, and Sora felt an odd flutter in his chest. It took him a moment to recognize it as happiness.

 

"And here is the casserole." Aqua proudly set the white dish on the table amongst gravy tiers, a basket of rolls, and a massive roast smothered in potatoes and carrots. Sora's stomach rumbled again, this time loudly enough for everyone to hear, and the Whidmores laughed, Larsa's green eyes twinkling, Aqua and Terra sharing a knowing look.

 

"Er…" Embarrassed, Sora rubbed a hand over the back of his head. "It looks delicious?" He hadn't seen these people since graduation, and he was fighting the awkwardness of all of it.

 

Riku, in that moment, decided not to help matters. Sora felt their fingers lace, and he looked down in time for Aqua to gasp and place a hand over her mouth, her blue eyes wide. She looked from Sora's face to Riku's, then back down at their joined fingers. Sora froze, not knowing what his next move should be.

 

The tips of his ears slowly turned red.

 

Aqua's lips spread into an even bigger smile than her first had been. Terra was eyeing the two men more hesitantly, and Larsa had an eyebrow raised. "Riku," she said, "are you finally with your one true love?" Mischief glinting in her eyes, she came to him, ruffling his hair.

 

Riku shot her an annoyed look, fending her off, but notably not releasing Sora's hand. Throughout it all, Sora was so uncomfortable he wanted to wrench their fingers free. But he couldn't do that. Not with Riku being his pretend boyfriend, and not in front of the Whidmores. They were too nice.

 

Everyone seated themselves, and Riku kept a firm grip on Sora. Sora figured he might as well let him have his hand. What harm was it going to do at this point? Besides, Riku was gripping his left hand, and Sora used his right to eat. It wasn't like he was being super hindered. Still, he mulled over Riku's actions. For someone who had wanted nothing to do with Sora the day before, he sure had changed his tune.

 

The rolls were passed around, as was the gravy for the mashed potatoes, and Aqua scooped casserole onto each plate. She cut into the roast last, making sure they all had a giant slice, and Terra and Sora were gifted with two of these. Terra caught Sora's eye and grinned, who found himself easily returning the gesture.

 

"You look so much like your father, Sora," Aqua said after several minutes of eating had passed.

 

Sora had to swallow a hunk of meat in order to answer. "Roxas looks more like him."

 

"Don't be stupid, Sora, you're twins," Riku scoffed. No one commented on his rudeness. They were all used to it, and no amount of scolding had changed it over the years.

 

"He's got the blond hair, though," Sora pointed out. He tugged at the tip of one of his spikes. "Mine's brown."

 

"He _does_ have Ventus' hair," Terra agreed. "But you both look incredibly like him, a lot more than your mother."

 

"You know…" Larsa raised his fork as he looked around at all of them in speculation. "Why is it that every one of you has a name after some element, yet I don't?"

 

Aqua reached over and patted his hand. "Both your grandfather and your uncle don't, and they _insisted_ I give you your grandfather's middle name."

 

Her husband reached for another roll, buttering it. "How _is_ Ven, anyway, Sora?"

 

His cheeks full of mashed potatoes, Sora found himself having to swallow yet again. He wondered if maybe he should stop eating while all these questions were directed at him. He was known for shoveling his food in, and he didn't want to have to keep struggling to swallow large mouthfuls and risk choking on the next go around. "He's fine, I guess."

 

Sora didn't talk to his father very much. They hadn't ever been super close.

 

"After your mother passed, we all found it really difficult…" Terra lowered his eyes to his plate, pushing some casserole around. "But—you know… Ven seemed to handle it better than the rest of us. I always kind of admired that."

 

Sora silently agreed with that. He noticed that Riku was watching him intently, but he didn't offer up any words. Sora had coped with his mother's death in his own way. It had happened years ago, when Roxas and Sora were only children. Most days, he didn't even remember enough about her to miss her.

 

Sensing Sora's reluctance to discuss his family, Terra tactfully changed the subject. "Riku, how is your schooling going?" His eyebrows were raised as he eyed his eldest son.

 

Sora found his shoulders relaxing as the spotlight shifted. Perhaps if he'd spent more time around the Whidmores in the last handful of years, he wouldn't have minded so much.

 

"It's going," Riku replied.

 

"Riku," Aqua protested.

 

He rolled his eyes. "What do you want to know that you didn't know last week? It's the same. My GPA hasn't changed, and neither has the workload. Happy?"

 

Sora and Larsa kept their eyes determinedly on their meals.

 

"Well, Larsa's doing really well at the company," Terra said proudly, now glancing at his youngest. "Ever since I placed him in management, the workers in that area have improved significantly."

 

Aqua sighed, setting her fork against her plate. "Don't, Terra?"

 

"What?" Terra blinked. Aqua tilted her head subtly in Riku's direction. The silver-haired boy had pursed lips and was burning a hole into his roast with his eyes. Terra opened his mouth, then shook his head, exasperated, and went back to his meal.

 

"How's _your_ schooling going, Sora?" Aqua inquired when it was clear that Terra was finished talking for now.

 

"Pretty great," he replied. Eager to get over the awkward part of this conversation, he launched into an explanation of his semester so far. He talked about everything from his soccer career and where he hoped to go with that, to his creating writing ventures, to his primary focus on business management.

 

It was here that Terra found common ground, and the two discussed what, exactly, Sora wanted to do with business. He was surprised to discover that Sora wanted to one day own a publishing company. Instead of dropping the topic after an appreciative mutter toward his ambition like most people did, Terra started listing friends he had in that industry.

 

"We can get together sometime this week," he said. "I have plenty of acquaintances. I could really help you get your foot in the door."

 

"Thanks," Sora said sincerely, actually feeling a bit excited. "I'd really like that."

 

It was almost against his will that he found himself thawing, letting the Whidmores back into his heart. He had been close with them all his life, and tonight it was like that had never changed. It was also something Riku had never been able to understand, and Sora privately thought Riku resented it.

 

Dessert was a beautiful strawberry cake, with pink frosting and the freshest strawberries on top in whipped cream. The sight of it made Sora's mouth water. He had thought he couldn't eat another bite, but now he was sure he was wrong. He'd make room for that!

 

Aqua chuckled at his expression and gifted him with the first slice. Sora heartily dug in, and soon had seconds.

 

"You've always had a good appetite, Sora," Terra remarked fondly. It caused Sora to beam, ever a model example of what a son should be to the Whidmores.

 

Sora wanted to linger afterward, but the second dessert was done, Riku stood and announced that he was done. He wiped his face with his cloth napkin, put it over his half-touched plate, and tucked his chair back in.

 

"Do you have to go so soon?" Aqua frowned. "You never stay anymore."

 

"Yeah, and I wanted to go over some reports with you," Larsa chipped in.

 

"I'll handle it at the office." Riku went around the table long enough to kiss his mother good-bye. On his way out, he grabbed Sora, nearly ripping him out of his seat, and firmly led him to the front door.

 

"Maybe I didn't want to go yet," Sora said once they were outside.

 

Riku rubbed his hand over his mouth, jingling his keys in his other hand. Without a word to Sora, no "thank you for coming to dinner" or anything of the sort, he climbed into his car and left. Sora watched him pull out, his fingers buried in his hair, growing more and more irate with the fact that Riku kept bailing so quickly.

 

It was time, he decided, to do something about that.

 

On the way to his Jeep, Sora's phone buzzed. He pulled it out absentmindedly, only for his heart to stop as the caller flashed across the screen.

 

**_Lea Goodwin_ **

 

For several moments, there was only static in Sora's ears, and the sense of the ground opening up beneath his feet. His breathing grew ragged, his heart pounded to the point of near bursting. He blinked fast, shoved his phone back in his pocket, and started his Jeep.

 

 _Shit,_ he thought, trembling all over.

 

 _Shit_.


	4. Mirrored

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It seems a few readers were confused about Lea and who this person was. Though I can't remember when it was announced to the public, game-wise Lea was revealed as to be Axel's Somebody in Birth By Sleep. Terra, Aqua, and Ventus are also from this game.

"Dad?"

 

Sora paused inside the entryway to the living room. The lights were off, and the TV was flashing from some action movie that was on mute. For a moment, he couldn't spot his father at all. Then he noticed the arm hanging over the couch, and he went over to investigate. Ventus was sprawled on his stomach, his eyes closed in slumber.

 

Frowning, Sora sighed and turned off the television. Though his father could more than afford his power bill, there was no reason to keep wasting energy.

 

"Sheesh, I actually come over to see you when you're off, and you're sleeping…" Sora muttered. It figured.

 

He grabbed the blanket from over the back of the couch and tucked it around his father. It was as he was doing this that a weird tingle started at the base of his spine. He furrowed his brows, pausing as he focused on it. The tingle spread up his spine, to the nape of his neck, and then into his skull. It was at that point that he screamed and doubled over.

 

What followed was unlike anything Sora had ever experienced in his entire life. His vision faded to black, and when it returned, he had the sense that he was doing something akin to dreaming. The body he inhabited was not his own, nor could he control it. He knew this instinctively, and, like in a dream, he didn't think to question it.

 

The room he was in was bright. It was still a living room, but it was different, bigger, and much more cheerful. A giant TV took up most of the back wall, and a leather sofa formed an L-shape around a marble-topped coffee table. The television was currently airing some cartoon, and as Sora processed this, a screech came from behind him.

 

His body whirled to see a little girl run into the room, shrieking with glee. Unkempt brown hair fell into her big, blue eyes. The second they landed on him, she gave another squeal and literally bounced the next few steps until she stood directly before him. Then she giggled, clapping her hands in front of her.

 

"Hee! Uncle RiRi! Mommy said you were coming!"

 

"C'mere, Himiko." Sora's body grabbed the little girl up in his arms and held her close. His eyes roved over her face, taking in how it closely resembled Sora's. A pang hit his chest at that, an emotion that Sora, himself, was detached from. The intermingling thoughts were threatening a headache already.

 

"Uncle RiRi?" She tilted her head, her eyes widening even more. She looked just like Sora when she did that, especially when her nose wrinkled. "You look sad?" She patted his cheek. "Why are you sad?"

 

His chest rumbled with laughter. "I look sad, huh? And what makes you say that, Miko?"

 

She frowned, yet another expression nearly identical to her father. Sora had always had a particular way of doing it. Like he knew you were keeping something from him, and he was going to find out what it was, whether you liked it or not, because he wanted to _help_ you, damn it.

 

"I feel it here." The girl touched her chest, directly over her heart. "I feel how sad you are here."

 

Sora's eyes fluttered open. He was lying on the floor of his father's living room, and his left cheek was pressed to the plush white carpet. His breath whistled in through his mouth as he tried to process what had just happened. His father, he observed, was hovering over him, a hand on his shoulder and his eyebrows lifted in concern.

 

"Sora?"

 

* * *

 

 

Riku blinked slowly.

 

There was a faint ringing in his ears, and the scent of coffee tickled his sense of smell. He wondered at that. Then he wondered why he was on his kitchen floor, his right cheek pressed to the linoleum. Directly in front of him seemed to be broken pieces of a coffee mug and a pool of black liquid.

 

Aching in places, he slowly got to his feet. They twisted beneath him, causing him to stagger a little and grip a chair by his table for support. The world spun. He groaned, putting a hand to his head. What had he been doing? Getting a cup of coffee… And before him, splayed out on the table, was his homework assignment.

 

"Fuck," he said.

 

What had that been…? He'd had a memory while awake, something that had never happened before, and on top of that, it had been… Sora's memory… but… Sora having a memory of _Riku's_ …? His head throbbed at the thought.

 

He dug in his pocket for his phone, only to hesitate. He didn't have Sora's number, and while he could have gotten it from Kairi, what was the point? What would he even say to Sora about it? Sora would just brush him off.

 

Biting his lip, he glanced over to his birdcage. Namine, his white parrot, tilted her head at him curiously. She was a quiet bird for the most part, only speaking when she was genuinely excited about something. Cockatoos were normally so noisy, but not Namine.

 

He walked over to her now, opening the cage and sticking out his finger. She eyed it for a moment, then tentatively touched her beak to it. Deciding his finger was sturdy enough, she climbed up and rustled her wings. He cooed softly to her, running his fingers over her feathers and kissing her beak.

 

Wasn't it interesting, he thought, that Roxas had manifested into a living, breathing person, but Namine, Kairi's Nobody, hadn't? She seemed to have faded with time, never reappearing. Riku had purchased this bird after his first dream, buying her on impulse and giving her that name. It had taken him weeks to figure out who Namine was.

 

A sudden banging on his door made Namine squawk, so he put her up and went to investigate. When he opened his door, Lea Goodwin was standing there, an orange plaid scarf around his neck and a phone in his hand, which he was pointing to. He lifted it for Riku's inspection, then grinned, albeit hesitantly.

 

"Uh—hey." He licked his lips. "Can I come in?"

 

Riku narrowed his eyes. Lea Goodwin had been in his high school graduating class, and while they attended the same university, they didn't share any classes there. Last Riku knew, Roxas and Lea were dating, but that was as far as his knowledge into Lea's personal life went.

 

Namine screeched from her cage, shrill even from across the apartment. Riku turned his head, ignoring Lea for the moment, and stared contemplatively in her direction. She never got upset. She called to him again, forcing him to abandon his visitor and go to check on her. When he got to her cage, she was on the highest perch in it, head bent forward, wings slightly up.

 

"Hey, what's wrong?" he inquired softly.

 

"Helloooo?" Lea called from the door. "You're not seriously gonna pretend I'm not here, right?"

 

Namine wouldn't come to Riku's finger. He frowned at that. What was upsetting her?

 

"Isa told me that I could find you here! He said that he's studied with you before? For a chem. class?"

 

Riku eyed his bird for a moment longer. Knowing he couldn't do anything about her right now, he went back to Lea. It was then that he paused, his eyes lingering over Lea's features. The taller boy was eyeing him curiously, his grin still plastered on, though now it looked more like an awkward grimace.

 

"Axel," Riku murmured.

 

"Uh… what?" Lea straightened his tall, lanky frame, a scarlet eyebrow arched.

 

"What do you want?" Riku's lips pressed into a thin line. "I'm busy."

 

"Well…" The redhead held up his hands in a placating gesture. "Look, I'm just trying to get a hold of Sora. He's not answering his phone. Could you tell him I need to talk to him?"

 

"Just tell him yourself."

 

Lea blocked the door with his foot and shoulder as Riku tried to shut it on him. "Look—I'm not tryin' to be a creep, okay? But I _seriously_ gotta get a hold of him!" Lea stuck his head in the space he'd made with the door, looking pleadingly at Riku. "It's very, _very_ important!"

 

"Why don't you ask Roxas, then?" That would be the more obvious choice, and Riku couldn't help a note of hostility from creeping into his tone. His senses were prickling warningly. He didn't want to talk to Lea for a second longer.

 

"Roxy—ah…" Lea licked his lips, pulling back to rub a hand over the back of his head. Riku used this to his advantage and closed the door on him, locking it for good measure. Lea protested loudly, banging a few times on the door, but Riku ignored him and headed back to his bird.

 

Namine was still crouched on her perch, upset shrills echoing around the kitchen.

 

"Hey," Riku soothed. "What's the matter with you, huh?"

 

He felt like she was trying to tell him something, but for the life of him, he couldn't figure out what.

 

* * *

 

 

Riku's apartment consisted of a master bedroom and two regular bedrooms upstairs, two bathrooms, and then a dining room, kitchen, living room, storage closet, and a half bathroom downstairs. It was too large for one person, but Riku supposed his mother was hoping he'd eventually make friends with someone enough to have a roommate. In the meantime, he used the rooms for his own devices.

 

One spare bedroom was set up like a gym, with state-of-the-art equipment that his father's company card had purchased. The other room was more of a study than anything else, though Riku rarely inhabited it. He went in there now, sorting through the papers on his desk. Though he hadn't been keeping a dream journal, he'd made notes on the occasion about those memories.

 

In particular, he'd made a timeline.

 

He looked at it now. _Sora—heartless battle_ was at the very top of the page. Branching from it were vague memories Riku had glimpsed. _Sora—Kairi: prince and princess_ , _Sora—assassin?, Sora—drug runner, Sora—on the run for what…?_ The problem was, though Riku knew these timelines and more were all connected, he didn't think they were from the same _world_.

 

Though it worried him to think about it, he had an idea that there were many "mirror" worlds, in which himself and the others in his life were just as involved as they were now, if not moreso. Different things happened on these worlds… but why Riku was having memories of all these mirror lives was still a huge question mark for him.

 

Carefully, he took his pen and scribbled in a new branch. _Sora—Kairi: Himiko_.


	5. Pieces

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Much thanks to hesteen for beta-reading this chapter for me!

The lights were blinding, making him hot in his long-sleeved shirt, but Sora was becoming accustomed to that, the same as he was becoming accustomed to the ear-piercing shrieks from his female fans in the audience. As the band played off a quick jazz number to announce they were coming back from a commercial break, Sora gave his signature awkward grin and rubbed his hand over the back of his neck.

 

"Sooo…" Demyx, the host of the talk show Sora was on, rapped his knuckles on his desk as the music died down. The fans took their cue to get quiet, too, and Sora laughed in his nervousness. "Hey, why are you laughing?"

 

"No, it's just that… I'm still not used to this whole… thing…" Sora swept a hand around him to indicate that he meant the whole of the business. Hollywood, his apartment in L.A., the TV show he'd found himself on six months ago, the fact that he was on _Sitar's Late Opinion_ tonight. All of it.

 

"Thing?" The blond older man grinned at him, leaning forward with his arm on his desk. "What do you mean by 'thing,' Sora?"

 

"You know…" Sora fidgeted, another nervous giggle escaping him.

 

"Nooo…" Demyx looked at the audience, eyebrows lifted, and they laughed, too.

 

"You know, let's talk about something else." Sora shifted on the plush, red leather chair he was on, putting his hands on his knees with an important smack. "Weren't you just asking me before the break about how it feels to be one of the most famous faces in America right now with only six months of television under my belt?"

 

"Gettin' kinda cocky now, aren't ya?" Demyx teased.

 

"Man, stop…" Sora whined around another laugh. "It's not like that."

 

His host let him squirm uncomfortably for a minute, then shook his head and chuckled. "No, you're right, okay, let's see…" Demyx leaned back in his chair and cocked his legs up on the desk. He folded his hands over his stomach and turned his head to face Sora, those blue eyes of his twinkling with mischief. "So… you're on _Requiem_ … Paopu Televison's highest rating show…"

 

"Yes…" Back on familiar ground, Sora cleared his throat. " _Is_ it the highest rating show on the network now? Wow."

 

" _So_ modest," Demyx purred. Tonight, he'd slicked his blond locks back, and the stud in his nose gleamed in all the lights. It was a blue to match his eyes. "But yes, according to recent reports, it is." He swirled a finger in the air. "And you, Shiozu Sora, star alongside Riku Solidor, who plays a brooding vampire that's kidnapped you, turned _you_ into a vampire, and brought you into his Gotham city."

 

"That's right." Sora nodded. "At least, that's what they tell me it's about," he joked a scant second later, "as the plot seems to change every episode."

 

"It _does_ leave off on quite a lot of cliffhangers," Demyx agreed. "I suppose you're all on lockdown, too, not allowed to say a single thing?"

 

"You know how it is. The writers and producers want everything to be a surprise. We really don't know what the next episode will be about until we're walking in and they're handing us the script." Sora tilted his head back on his chair, getting comfortable, legs sprawled before him. "Then we're all like, 'Ooooh, okay, that makes more sense—not.'"

 

His host took his feet off the desk at that. "Do the cliffhangers frustrate you, too?"

 

"To an extent," Sora hedged. He did, after all, enjoy his job. "I know about as much of the plot as the viewers do, but I get to know it quicker, I guess? And I'm the one acting it, so it's not _as_ bad."

 

"Meaning, you don't have to watch for an hour every week, only to scream out in frustration and wait for the next one, huh?" The older man leaned his cheek on his hand. "Iiiinteresting."

 

Sora giggled again. "I guess."

 

"So modest," Demyx reiterated. "That's fine. Okay, so… You were in an interview with GQ last week—impressive enough, considering your fledgling resume—and you told them that you were childhood friends with Solidor." His chin moved to his palm, his eyes nearly catlike in their sudden gleam of interest. "Tell me about that."

 

Sora looked out into the audience, past the blinding lights. Everyone was on the edge of their seat. He'd barely talked about it in that interview. Maybe people found it more fascinating than he'd thought they would. "Okay, well… I've known Riku since I was about four, I guess."

 

"Uh huh, go on," the host coaxed.

 

The young star did, grinning. "We met because he defended me against some bullies who wanted to steal my lunchbox." As expected, the audience cooed in sympathy at this. "Yeah. Right, see, it was a really _awesome_ lunchbox. I won't tell you what's on it, 'cause I don't think it's awesome anymore…" He had to speak over Demyx's protests to continue on with the story. "Anyway, so I was still best friends with Riku when he took an interest in modeling, and then, from there, acting, and… about a year ago, he was approached with the script for _Requiem_ , and he told me he wanted me to costar with him."

 

Demyx tapped his fingertips against his chin. "It's not really heard of all that often."

 

"I know, I was really surprised."

 

"Were you excited?"

 

"No, I was terrified!" Sora put a hand to his chest amidst laughter. "Seriously, it's true, I've never taken an acting class in my life. But… the director liked me, and the producers gave it the green light, and I guess I've been living in a dream ever since." He shrugged.

 

"Well, then…" Demyx's grin reminded Sora vaguely of the Cheshire Cat, and Sora had the sudden feeling that he was about to be grilled in front of a live audience concerning things he normally chose not to answer in private interviews.

 

"Well?"

 

"Weeeell… Speaking of Riku—the two of you seem so _close_."

 

* * *

 

 

Sora paused outside of his director's office door. He'd been about to knock, but the raised voices on the other side of that door had stopped him. He could hear Sephiroth, which normally wouldn't have been a big deal. What caught his attention was Riku's shout, the sound of his fists slamming down on a fine wooden desk.

 

"I'm _NOT_ doing it!"

 

"You are if you want to keep your job," was Sephiroth's cool response.

 

Knowing he shouldn't, Sora leaned his ear against the door, straining to hear every word. This was very curious indeed. It wasn't often that Riku got angry. The guy was one of the calmest people Sora knew, very laidback and hard to ruffle. Sephiroth, _Requiem's_ director and producer, had about the same demeanor. So why, then, were the two people who seemed least likely to fight with someone having an argument now?

 

"Haha, well—maybe I'll quit, then."

 

There was a creak of leather, like Sephiroth was leaning back in his desk chair. "The show must go on. It won't be too difficult finding a replacement for you, I'm sure. We chose you to play the lead out of hundreds of well-rounded actors who auditioned for the position. The show is only in its first season. If we were to find ourselves with a new lead, well… It's not exactly unheard of."

 

"Fuck you, Sephiroth," was Riku's cutting retort, and it made Sora's eyebrows fly up. "I took the part because you _blackmailed_ me. So don't sit there in that chair, acting high and mighty, when we both know that the only reason you _have_ this Goddamn show is because I'm on it!"

 

"If you prefer to look at it that way, that is entirely up to you. However…" Sora could imagine Sephiroth leaning forward, resting his chin on his hands, his elbows propped up on the desktop. "I don't see what you're making a fuss over, Riku. It's not a secret how you feel about the boy. A dream that barely pushes the boundaries of homo-erotic shouldn't be upsetting you this much."

 

"It's not _me_ that I'm worried about," Riku gritted out.

 

A dark, silky laugh slid from beneath the door, making Sora shiver a little.

 

"You're worried about Sora not accepting his part of the script? Please, Riku. Tell me you're not that stupid. Anyone can see how he looks at you."

 

"That's…"

 

Sora didn't hear the rest. He was too busy focusing on how hard his heart was suddenly pounding.

 

**_"It's painful, isn't it?"_ **

 

He gasped, whirling to his right, where the sudden voice had come from. Sparkles coalesced in the air, shimmering and forming the vague outline of a human being. Then they left, falling like dust to the floor, and in its place was… himself? Except—it wasn't. The hair on his doppelganger's head was black, and his eyes were the color of gold.

 

What the hell?

 

What was happening?!

 

Sora fought the instinctive urge to hurl himself at the mirror image of himself and attack it. As if reading his thoughts, Doppelganger smirked and leaned against the wall, crossing his feet at the ankles and folding his arms. A brow rose in challenge. Foreboding struck Sora, and he got the strangest feeling that maybe attacking him wouldn't be such a great idea.

 

"How did you just do that?" he demanded instead. "How is this happening?"

 

"Well, if you want to get technical, I suppose you could call me a manifestation of your… considerable angst that has flowed through all sorts of different realities." Doppelganger studied his fingernails, a difficult thing to do, as he had leather gloves on. Then his nose wrinkled, and he smudged imaginary dust from his fingertips.

 

Sora's mouth hung open. Huh?

 

His angst among the different realities?

 

Sora whirled and tried Sephiroth's office door, but it wouldn't budge. As he watched, all the color seemed to leech from everything, the mahogany wood grain slipping into a dull, pale gray color. He gasped, taking a step back. The white walls became black, the red carpet beneath his feet white.

 

The absence of color oozed down the hallway. It was like layers of paint being washed away by a new coat from a diligent brush. By the time it was finished, an eerie silence had taken root in the hall. No shrieks of telephones, no mutters of people in meetings.

 

It was almost as if they had been transported to a void of lifelessness.

 

"Time is frozen here," Doppelganger supplied from behind him. "I had to bend the rules of time and space to talk to you."

 

"This is not happening," Sora whispered. This was just not possible. Even the special effects on _Requiem_ couldn't have produced something as eerie as this, and _Requiem_ —though a baby show—was known for its tangible realism. The viewer felt as though nothing was done by computer.

 

This, though…

 

"The interesting thing about this, Sora, is that I keep getting stronger while your spirit grows weaker and weaker." His dark twin wrapped his arms around Sora's waist from behind and tugged him against his chest. It felt so wrong. Like… hundreds of spiders were skittering over his skin, and Sora jerked violently as if to dispel them. His doppelganger, however, gripped him tight.

 

"Stop—let me go!"

 

"Do you know what the most interesting thing about this is…?"

 

Sora finally yanked free, twisting around to shove his creepy alter ego like he'd wanted to do the first moment he saw him. The result was one he had not expected—the man smiled at him before vanishing in a puff of smoke, and when he appeared again, it was further down the hallway, near the ceiling, and he floated lightly down.

 

"More of Ventus latched himself on to you than either of you ever knew. And then when you shared the paopu fruit with Riku…" He laughed, a wicked sound that Sora couldn't even imagine making. Hearing it come from someone who looked and spoke just like him made his gut twist.

 

"What the heck are you talking about!" Sora burst out. "How do you know my dad, and I've _never_ shared a paopu fruit with Riku!"

 

But he never got his answer.

 

In the time it took to blink, he realized he was shouting at nothing and that time had resumed its flow around him. It was startling, to see everything jolt back into color, and it stunned him for several moments. By that time, Riku was exiting Sephiroth's office, his expression bewildered.

 

"Sora? Are you okay?" He glanced left and right, searching for the source of Sora's ire. "Who are you yelling at?"

 

"N-No one…" Sora panted. He felt… weak… And when his knees buckled, Riku rushed forward and grabbed him.

 

"Hey—hey, Sora, look at me!" Riku grabbed his cheek, but Sora was staring past him at the spot that that… thing… had vanished. Something tickled the back of his mind, some fragment of enlightenment, and Sora's eyes narrowed, his fist clenching as he allowed Riku to pull him back to his feet.

 

Vanitas.

 

That was his name.

 

* * *

 

 

"FUCK!"

 

Sora slammed on his brakes and yanked on his steering wheel, burning rubber across the express lane. Honks blared out behind him, and he saw several cars swerve to avoid his path. One of them hit the silver railing guarding the cars from the ocean spanning beneath them, and another rearended the vehicle just behind Sora. Sora himself remained unscathed, as well as the car he'd almost run into.

 

He knew he should stop and do the right thing. Get out, check on everybody. But he couldn't. His hands were shaking, and his palms were slick against his steering wheel from the sweat that he'd broken into.

 

Something had happened.

 

He'd just been driving, heading to school. Perfectly normal. And then… _wham!_ A dream as real as waking had flashed in front of his eyes. He'd been ripped from his form and tossed into what had to be a corporeal one, living and breathing that person, that person who had been… _him_. Except it wasn't him. Because Sora wasn't some television star, and he didn't go on late-night talk shows, and—

 

This didn't make sense.

 

He was going crazy!

 

He kept driving, his thoughts spinning rapidly out of control. He was ten miles down the road, forestry surrounding him on either side, when he had to pull over, ready to vomit. Cars sped past him fast enough that it ruffled his spikes. He staggered, sinking into his Jeep, his hand planted against its side as he emptied the contents of his stomach. Breakfast burrito straight from the freezer. Disgusting.

 

Somehow, he'd had some bug-fuck daydream that had taken place over several days, but he'd only lost—what—a minute?—in reality.

 

His hands shook as he dragged them across his eyes.

 

_"I've been having these weird dreams lately, Sora. I feel like I'm going crazy, maybe."_

Riku.

 

Sora licked his lips, grimaced at the taste. This reminded him too much of the time Lea and he had gone and…

 

_heatsodizzyamazingeverythingwas **amazing** smilesmileiloveyouohgod_

He squeezed his eyes shut to block the memories as they tried to bombard him. Then he stared down at his fingers, bitten to the quick despite the nail polish trick he'd attempted. What had he been thinking about, what was it, oh—oh, yes. Riku. The thing. The dream.

 

_"Dreams about… another life, maybe."_

Sora could see the scene playing out in his mind, heard the concern in his voice as he grabbed Riku's arm before he could get out the door the other night. _"Riku, are you okay? You look like you haven't slept in a while…"_

 

He slumped against his Jeep and stared into the bright sunlight above him.

 

"Fuck," he said again, with feeling.


	6. Hopeful

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A special thanks to hesteen for beta-ing this chapter for me! You're the best!
> 
> Music I listened to while writing this chapter:
> 
> Unhappy Endings – Mark Isham; Once Upon a Time
> 
> I only mention this because that track is beautiful.

 When Riku got to his front door, he was bombarded with a whiff of _Fierce_ cologne, and then arms were around him. He clutched the doorframe to keep himself upright. Stunned, he looked down, only to be greeted by the sight of cinnamon spikes. He wanted to tense—he wanted to shove Sora off him, because his heart was still ravaged by the hurt of their last few years… but in the end, he couldn't do it.

 

"Sora—what's wrong?"

 

The smaller boy shuddered against him. Sora sniffled then, and Riku's heart clenched even tighter. His arms safe at his sides, he turned his eyes away. He could feel his nails biting into the flesh of his palms. The effort of not holding Sora was laborious. It was taking all he had to stand there and do nothing.

 

Sora tilted his head back to see Riku. His eyes glistened. His voice, on the other hand, was steady when he spoke. "Tell me about your dreams."

 

That made Riku take a step back, perturbed. He didn't get very far—Sora was already after him, his hands fisting themselves back in Riku's shirt. The sunlight was making the gold in Sora's spikes glow like a halo around his head, a sight that no longer matched the soul within. Sora was tainted, by what Riku didn't know, and he fiercely missed the boy he'd fallen in love with so long ago.

 

"Riku, I—I have to know," he said hoarsely now, his eyes as blue and huge as they'd ever been when he was vulnerable. Riku couldn't remember the last time Sora had done this: turned to him, confided in him, _needed_ him. Because Riku could see that need now, raw in Sora's gaze. Ghost-like feelings rose up in answer within Riku… the urge to comfort him, to tug him closer for an embrace.

 

But those days were long gone. And as much as Riku wanted to get to the bottom of the dreams, he couldn't just forgive what had passed between them in this life so easily.

 

"Know what…?" Riku replied guardedly. He lifted his hands to where Sora's rested against his chest, disentangling them. Sora fought him on that, though, making Riku's heart skip in surprise, then Sora was taking advantage of the moment to push him further into his apartment, kicking the door shut behind them.

 

The sunlight faded, and so did Sora's halo.

 

Before Riku knew it, he was grunting as Sora shoved him none too gently on his couch. That made his bird squawk in protest, as she could see them from the kitchen. Sora's eyes lifted in curiosity. To Riku's misfortune, it was only momentary. Just as he was rising off the couch with plans to knock Sora onto his ass, the other boy placed his hands firmly on Riku's shoulders and straddled his hips.

 

Shit.

 

Riku closed his eyes, his throat working. "Sora. Get off me."

 

" _No_! I want to talk to you about this!"

 

"Sora…" Riku said, more firmly. His limbs were starting to shake with the effort of not shoving Sora violently from his person. He felt he had a right to it, but what good would violence do at this juncture? As much as he resented Sora's behavior toward him in the not-so-distant past, he knew he had to get to the bottom of the dreams. "Get. Off. Me."

 

"Ri, come on, please, right now I just need to—"

 

"SORA, GET THE FUCK OFF ME!"

 

Sora stared, his mouth hanging open. Then his brows knitted over his nose, and his lower lip jutted into a familiar pout. It quickly segued into a growl, and before Riku could digest what was happening, Sora leaned forward and pushed their mouths together in what was possibly the clumsiest, yet somehow sexiest kiss Riku had ever experienced. Clumsy because their teeth knocked together. Sexy because it was, well… it was _Sora_.

 

 _To hell with it_ , Riku thought. He had wanted this too long, and even though Sora had been nothing but a source of pain these past few years, Riku had always had trouble resisting temptation. Besides, maybe it was time to give Sora a taste of his own medicine.

 

He knotted a hand in Sora's hair, his tongue thrusting against that full lower lip and then forcing its way into that mouth that Riku loved to hate. He heard himself groan, but that was fine. Maybe if Sora got singed by the fire he was playing with, he'd back the fuck off. For once. Then again, maybe not. Sora was just too damn stubborn for his own good.

 

But whatever Riku expected, Sora's enthusiastic reception wasn't it. Although he had started the kiss—no doubts about that—Riku had known it was a way to get his attention, nothing more. Except… Sora was echoing his groan, Sora was tangling his tongue hungrily with Riku's, Sora was pulling him closer, putting his arms around Riku's shoulders, Sora was… making Riku lose his damn mind, if the dreams/memories hadn't done that already.

 

It made Riku grab Sora by the biceps and jerk him roughly away. "You don't even want this, so why are you doing it?"

 

The smaller man's eyes were a deep, bottomless blue. Those long lashes of his were hanging low, and his lips were stained a dark red from being kiss-bruised. It took all of Riku's willpower and then some not to lean in and claim those lips again.

 

"You weren't listening." Sora's voice was nothing more than a husky murmur. It made Riku swallow, his pants suddenly too tight.

 

"So you kiss me?"

 

Now Sora's eyes flashed with the first threads of anger. Good. That shade of lusty cerulean had been doing nothing good to slow Riku's heart rate. "You kissed me back," he said defiantly.

 

Riku couldn't exactly argue with that. "So I did."

 

The two glared at one another in silence.

 

And Riku got to thinking. "So how's that revenge plan against Professor Leonhart working out?"

 

The man on his lap flinched. Perhaps if Riku couldn't get him off his lap by a display of intense arousal, maybe reminding Sora of the constant hurt that was no doubt gnawing at him from the inside would work better. It was definitely worth a try, and Riku was a big believer in if at first you don't succeed…

 

"I didn't come here because of that." Sora stayed firmly rooted in his lap, which was growing quite problematic. Time to be blunt, then.

 

"Sora, if you don't want to feel my dick pressing against you, it might be best to get the fuck off my lap."

 

Plan A and B hadn't worked. So maybe Plan C would triumph where they had failed miserably.

 

That Kiss-Me-Senseless shade of blue was back in Sora's eyes. A crafty smile tilted up one corner of his mouth, and he nudged his nose against the line of Riku's jaw before he cupped a hand over Riku's straining crotch. It made Riku curse, but all attempts to remove his hand ended in not doing a damned thing, mostly because Riku's body wasn't obeying his brain.

 

Shit. Double shit.

 

"Now, now, Riku," Sora purred. "We haven't even gone on our first date yet."

 

Riku had been trying his very best to be cool and _not_ dump Sora on the floor. To not be violent. But the brunet left him with no choice. Riku rose, since that reaction was probably the furthest from Sora's mind, and since Sora wasn't hanging on to anything, he landed flat on his ass.

 

"Look—Sora… I know you want me to be your pretend boyfriend. But it's just that: _pretend_. You _don't_ have to…" _torment me_ "…kiss me or grope me to make it more 'authentic.' We don't have an audience here."

 

The younger man smiled faintly at him from his position on the floor. "You really think I'm not attracted to you, Ri?"

 

He had lifetimes of memories that were screaming that Sora was, but it was _this_ lifetime that Riku found himself in, and he'd just go even more insane if he tried to convince himself of something that had never existed _here_ , where it was more important.

 

"You tell me, Sora. I told you I loved you, that I wanted to be with you. You told me you weren't gay, avoided me like the plague, then, a few years later, you fuck our creative writing professor and get the not-so-brilliant idea to try and use _me_ as your vengeance plot. Considering how little you care for my feelings… Yeah, it's a bit hard to believe you're attracted to me now. And I refuse to be rebound." Riku used a rubber band from his pocket to tie his hair back. "I put on a public face for you—it doesn't mean you get to harass me in the privacy of my own home… So beat it."

 

"Damn it, Riku! Why won't you listen to me?" Clearly miffed, Sora got to his feet. He dusted his cargo shorts off, smoothed down his short-sleeved plaid button down. Considering how many wrinkles were in it, as if he'd dug it out from under his bed that morning in lieu of something actually washed, Riku wasn't really sure what the point of that had been. It didn't matter. He hadn't helped Sora with his wardrobe in far too long.

 

"Because everything you say just winds up pissing me off." Riku jerked a thumb at the door. "Get. I'll see you tomorrow."

 

"Don't you want to know about the dreams?!"

 

Riku's heart thumped uncomfortably. He'd been trying to avoid this topic. "I've been having them since I was fifteen…" He looked away, because the intensity in Sora's eyes was making him way too nervous. "You already told me the other night that you—"

 

"I had one today. While I was driving. I was suddenly in—a memory or something, I don't know, it's crazy!" Sora began to pace, alternatively grabbing fistfuls of his spikes and making agitated gestures. "When I came to, I nearly got in an accident. But it was like days passed in a span of maybe sixty seconds." He shuddered. "And there was someone there… His name was Vanitas… He didn't say that was who he was, but for some reason, I just know…"

 

His brows bunching over his nose, Riku frowned. "Vanitas?"

 

His friend mirrored his expression. "You don't know who that is?"

 

"No…"

 

Sora's shoulders slumped. "Great…"

 

"Do you want to tell me what happened?" Riku hedged, since Sora's disappointment was like a blow to his heart, like _he_ had caused Sora this great upset. It was annoying, considering how little Sora had thought of Riku's feelings since the Confession.

 

"Well, yeah. That's kinda why I'm here…" Sora shook his head. "But—if you don't know who Vanitas is…"

 

"I don't know a lot of things about the dreams, Sora. And I've been having them for years. But… I might be able to help you. And maybe if both of us are starting to have them, maybe we'll be one step closer to figuring them out."

 

"You talk about them like this whole thing isn't crazy…"

 

"I've just had a long time to get used to this particular brand of craziness."

 

* * *

 

 

Once upon a time, Riku and Sora would have climbed up to Riku's bedroom and they would have had their important discussion there. Afterward, they would have undoubtedly tossed themselves on the bean bags Riku previously possessed and played video games until Aqua called them down to dinner. She would have invited Sora to stay the night, and either Mr. Shiozu would have made him come home to do homework, or the two boys would have stayed up the entire night, trading stories about their favorite comics.

 

Now, of course, Riku wasn't going to let Sora anywhere near his bedroom, especially after that rather aggressive display on his couch. So he led Sora to his kitchen, where Namine was perched in her cage, eyeballing Riku's new guest with her head tilted. At least she wasn't screeching her head off, as she had done with Lea. Instead, Namine seemed very intent, as if she didn't know what to make of Sora.

 

"When did you get a bird?" her subject asked.

 

"It doesn't matter." Riku didn't want to tell Sora anything personal about himself if it didn't pertain to the situation at hand. He gestured to the small breakfast table. "Do you want anything to drink?"

 

"It's weird that you're playing host," Sora observed as he sat himself. "What's his name?"

 

"It's a she. And her name is Namine." Overlooking Sora's rudeness, Riku waited a tad impatiently for Sora's drink order. But the other man was too busy gawking at the cockatoo's brilliant white plumage.

 

Scowling, Riku went to the refrigerator and worked by route, thinking that what knowledge he had of Sora's tastes was stale at best, and if Sora didn't like whatever Riku came up with, then he could just eat dickholes, for all Riku cared.

 

"Here," he said after a moment, placing a Dr. Pepper and a glass of ice in front of his mostly unwanted visitor. He had to admit—though never out loud—that he was rather looking forward to the fact that _finally_ , after all these years, he could talk to someone about these dreams, and that someone would understand… And furthermore, that someone was _Sora_ …

 

 Sora's face brightened. "You remembered!"

 

"No. I just like Dr. Pepper," Riku said gruffly. Sora didn't seem to care—he only continued to grin at Riku like the complete idiot he was until Riku could feel his insides start to turn a little gooey, like the ice encasing his heart was beginning to thaw, and—

 

And that just wouldn't do. Riku forced his eyes away. It took more effort than he would have liked. "So you had a dream about some guy named Vanitas?"

 

"Yeah! And the _weird_ thing was, he looked just like me! Well… Except he had black hair and these creepy yellow eyes, but other than that…!"

 

A silver brow rose. "Like some kind of doppelganger?"

 

Sora's spikes bobbed up and down. "He said that he had, uh—" Here, the brunet paused, mouthing words to himself before his face became very serious and his voice dropped a few octaves, now carrying somewhat of a sinister note. "'Formed from my angst through all the different realities.'"

 

Across the table, Riku's heart thumped again. Now _that_ … That sounded familiar. Riku thought of his chart upstairs, in the room directly above them. He thought of all the realities he'd mapped, all the notes he had for each one…

 

In _every single_ reality, things never wound up good for either of them, but most especially Sora.

 

"He told me that ever since I shared, uhm, the paopu fruit with you—"

 

Riku held up a hand, and Sora stopped immediately, his eyes wide in concern. It reminded Riku so painfully of the old Sora, and how innocent he used to be, that Riku felt his throat close up. A heartbeat of silence passed, in which he reminded himself of why he had just interrupted him.

 

"He said that? That we shared a paopu?"

 

Sora blinked. Once, twice. He licked his lips. "Yes?"

 

It would explain _everything_ , Riku thought as his mind began to race frantically. Everything and then some. At least, it would explain why they shared so many realities—why they had dreams of these realities. In theory—or legend, as Riku was choosing not to look at it—if two people shared a paopu, their destinies would be intertwined forever. And that seemed to be exactly what had happened.

 

Only…

 

It didn't account for all their misery—or Sora's misery. Riku didn't think his share of it was that unusual, given his disposition, which tended to be more personality than circumstance.

 

"Riku?"

 

He looked up.

 

"You've been quiet for, like, ten minutes…" That he found it unnerving went unsaid.

 

"I was thinking."

 

"You sure are Captain Obvious today," Sora said wryly.

 

Riku supposed such an asshole remark was significantly better than _Did it hurt?_ so he decided to let it go. Just this once. For the sake of not getting sidetracked, and where Sora was concerned, that was always a distinct possibility. "It's a lot to process."

 

His companion took his turn to arch a brow.

 

Riku clarified, though he hadn't thought it needed. "What you've told me."

 

Sora's sigh bordered on impatient. "Yeah, but _what_ were you think about _eeexactly_ that you ignored me for so long?"

 

Oh. "The paopu."

 

Blue eyes flared, along with nostrils. Riku couldn't recall a time he had ever seen Sora look so miffed. "Are you being deliberately obtuse?"

 

Riku chose that moment to steal a swig of Sora's soda. "I'm not sure you're ready for my prognosis," he said, just because if Sora could randomly throw out Big Words, then that more than meant Riku could, too.

 

"I wouldn't _be_ here if I wasn't!" Sora puffed up, the air around him almost visibly sizzling with his ire. In contrast, Namine stood tall, thinning her body out, her pupils dilating and shrinking rapidly.

 

"You're upsetting my bird."

 

"God _damn_ it, Riku!" Sora swore viciously. "I get that you hate me! I _get that_!" He was on his feet now, the chair three feet away from his abrupt change of position.

 

"I don't hate you," Riku said, privately commending himself as he did so for how calmly that came out.

 

"But _you_ brought up the dreams to me first! So it stands to reason that when _I_ start to—" He cut off, digging in his pocket. A slim, white phone was produced a moment later. Sora frowned. He was completely tense, moreso than five seconds ago. "It's Squall."

 

Riku no longer felt so tranquil, or what constituted for that since Sora had shown up on his doorstep. "Maybe he heard about our relationship." He needed something in his stomach stronger than soda. He briefly contemplated going to the cabinet for the scotch, but just as quickly discarded the impulse. If he got up from the table right now, the more likely he would be to smash something. And it'd probably be Sora's phone.

 

"I've got to go." Sora's Adam's apple bobbed up and down as he swallowed. "I've got to take this."

 

"If we shared a paopu, it means that there's a reason why there's hundreds of different realities between us," Riku said.

 

Sora, finally, looked up from his phone. It continued to buzz incessantly in his hand. "Hundreds?" he said weakly.

 

Riku nodded. "If not more."

 

The other man sat. He no longer seemed to notice his phone or the asshat waiting on the other end. "That's… that's—"

 

"Insane?"

 

"Well…" Sora blinked owlishly again. "Y-Yeah…"

 

"Why do you think I see a shrink?" Riku massaged his brow. He was getting a headache, and that scotch was beginning to seem more and more like a great idea.

 

"Good point." The lithe brunet had the grace to blush. "But—I mean… Say we really _did_ share a paopu in some reality—why are there so _many_ of them? And why did someone like Vanitas show up? Gaining power from my 'angst'?"

 

"Look—I… I don't…" Riku's throat tightened around the lie. The truth was, he had some suspicions about what had started this snowball effect. And with how earnestly Sora was gazing at him right now, it was kind of hard to pretend otherwise. "Sora, I'm just not sure if you're _ready_ —"

 

"You keep saying that! It's total BS, by the way! When would I _ever_ be ready for something like this?! I mean, c'mon, it's like we've stepped into the Twilight Zone…"

 

Sora's phone had stopped buzzing, setting Riku a little more at ease. When Sora remained oblivious to the fact that he had ignored Squall's call entirely, Riku event felt his mood lightening a bit. Much as he didn't trust Sora, it didn't make it any easier to have to contend with the fact that _someone_ had slept with Sora… someone who wasn't _him_ …

 

"If I tell you…" Riku paused, leaning back in his chair. He needed to choose his words carefully. "Do you promise not to run?" He looked Sora dead in the eyes for the first time that afternoon since his personal space had been invaded. He was well aware that what he was asking now completely contradicted how he'd been feeling for the last hour. By asking Sora not to run, he was committing himself to dealing with his mostly unwanted presence. But he meant the question to be taken at more than face value.

 

Across the table, Sora's lips pursed. At least he was thinking it through instead of answering impulsively as he was prone to doing. Riku took that time to get his scotch, putting it on the rocks with a splash of water. He leaned against the kitchen counter after that, one hand braced on the sink and the other bringing the alcohol to his lips as he stared out the tiny window in front of him. The nice thing about his apartment was that it was really more like a small house. To be technical, it looked like one from the outside, but on the inside, it was split in half. It wasn't quite a duplex, wasn't quite a townhouse, wasn't quite an apartment.

 

It suited him perfectly, as few things did.

 

"Why make this so mysterious?" Sora asked after a long moment. His voice had barely risen above a whisper. "If you and me are experiencing the same thing, we should be in this together—"

 

"Because it's _not_ the same thing," Riku interjected.

 

" _How_?!"

 

"Because— _I'm_ the reason this happened to you!" Riku set his tumbler down with a hard thunk on the counter, its ice rattling. He licked his lips, tasting his scotch, a whiskey blend. "Damn it, Sora… You're just—you're not _ready_ for this… Just go—call… call Professor Leonhart back…" He waved a hand without turning around. "Go do whatever you want."

 

"What I _want_ is for you to explain to me what the hell is going on!"

 

Riku stayed mum. Sora wasn't going to get another word out of him, not if he could help it. And he could very well help himself where it concerned _this_. Riku wanted to tell Sora everything… he always had. But Sora had already proved he couldn't handle it, years ago, when he had thrown everything he'd had with Riku away because he couldn't deal with the burden of Riku's feelings. And Riku simply wasn't going to put himself in that position again. It would hurt so much worse this time…

 

Damn him, but Sora lingered. Riku could feel those amazing blue eyes boring twin holes into his back. If this had been before all the hurt, the grief, Riku would have caved like a ship being pulled under a tsunami, his empathy toward Sora had been that powerful. As it stood now, he lifted his scotch for another sip.

 

Though he was loathe to admit it, Sora's phone ringing again saved the day. With a growl, Sora snatched up his keys and phone and stormed out of the apartment. The front door slammed behind him hard enough to rattle the whole frame of the building, and Namine squawked in protest.

 

Riku didn't set down his glass again until his fingers had stopped shaking.


	7. Empty

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Special thanks to hesteen for beta-ing for me.

"I'm just saying… maybe I made a mistake."

 

Sora shoved his fists into his pockets and twisted toward Squall's patio window. He was currently standing in his professor's apartment, and three floors below there was a very nice view of the beach. At the moment, though, he couldn't concentrate on it, replaying Squall's last words over and over in his mind.

 

It was what he'd wanted to hear, wasn't it?

 

So then why did…?

 

He scrubbed his hands over his face. "Yeah, you did," he said at length, his fingers buried so tight in his hair he was hurting his scalp. "A big one."

 

A strong hand slid over his shoulder and squeezed hesitantly, but warmly. "So let me fix it."

 

Sora jerked away from him so fast he tripped over his feet. He caught the blinds to steady himself, yanking one down in the process. It fell to the floor in an awkward fold. Sora kicked it away, then strode across the living room, past the aquarium Squall had with its colorful fish swimming about.

 

"I'm not ready." Sora put his hands back in his pockets, wishing he had never left Riku's apartment. Sure, over there they'd be talking about psycho stuff like dreams that shouldn't be real, but it was infinitely better than this… this-ness.

 

" _Ready_?" The taller man folded his arms. He was beautiful, Sora would never deny that. He had these broad shoulders, a perfectly firm chest, a slender set of hips, and God, those _thighs_. His face itself was a masterpiece, with those choppy chocolate locks, his high cheekbones, his stormy gray eyes… It was that brooding expression he had on right now that had drawn Sora to him in the first place.

 

Sora bit into his thumbnail, tasting black paint chips. He wanted to smoke his stash of green more than ever now. This shit was too stressful lately. First the breakup, then Riku being his pretend boyfriend, Lea's unexpected phone call, the dream that had caused him to make a few cars wreck behind him…

 

"Yeah. I'm not," he repeated.

 

A frown formed on Squall's mouth. This one was different from the others. Squall rarely had anything _but_ apathy on his face. "So everything you said about wanting to make this work… that was a lie?"

 

The first threads of anger sparked in Sora's destroyed heart. He'd had about enough of it being stepped on. "Don't do that," he said in a low voice, and his fingers curled into fists. "You don't get to do that. You don't get to say that to me."

 

"The truth?" Squall challenged.

 

"You _fucked_ another man, Squall." Sora was doing his damndest not to yell. He did, however, thrust a finger at the floor. "You fucked him, and you didn't _care_ about what it did to me. And just when I'm ready to move on, you—"

 

"With that Whidmore boy?" Squall said sharply.

 

Sora drew in a breath. Riku was right. Squall _had_ noticed. He should have felt thrilled at that. This was everything he wanted, after all. Squall crawling back to him, in pieces over what Sora had going with Riku. 

 

The taller man licked his lips, then came forward, his hands out in a placating gesture, like he was struggling to remain calm himself. "It… I was being stupid…" Squall squeezed his eyes shut. "Okay? I saw you two, and I—"

 

"Yeah, well, now you know how it feels," Sora bit out. What was _wrong_ with him? Why was he doing this? He wanted Squall back! Now was his chance!

 

He walked out and he didn't look back, and it didn't matter. Squall never came after him.

 

And that really told Sora all he needed to know.

 

Even if he did cry in his Jeep afterward in the parking lot, watching the sun set over the sparkling waters of the beach.

 

* * *

 

By the time he had cried himself out, it was well into the evening. He lifted his phone to his ear and input the password to his voicemail. Lea's voice rang out, hesitant at first, borderline sheepish. But never apologetic. That wasn't Lea's way.

 

Sora tossed his phone onto the passenger seat, put his Jeep into drive, and rolled out.

 

The lights of the highway were glittering, guiding him amongst the palm trees to his next destination. He pulled into one of the many neighborhoods dotting this island after a short trip on a ferry, and didn't bother locking his vehicle as he hopped out onto the street. He noted the absence of his brother's car, just as promised.

 

Great.

 

Time to get fucked up.

 

Music was blasting bass well over the noise restriction rule, but considering it looked like every in the neighborhood was at Lea's house, it didn't really matter. Couples were strewn over the lawn, laughing into their cups. Two guys built on steroids were wrestling near the garbage can by the curb, and one's shirt had ridden up to bare his muscular back. It wasn't something Sora would have noticed before… well… _before._

 

He stuck his keys in his pocket and climbed up the steps to Lea's front door. The second he opened it, more music hit him like a physical wall. Someone stumbled into him on their way out onto the small patio, and whereas normally Sora would have been irked, tonight he didn't really care. He had something on his mind, and it was requiring all of his attention. The rest of him was hollowed out, too empty for much else.

 

People were sweating from so much dancing—well, gyrating—and the party didn't look like it was stopping anytime soon. Sora sidestepped where he could, gently pushed drunkards out of his way when he couldn't. Lea was just within his sights, and as soon as he reached him, he took the beer bottle out of his hand and took a long drag from it.

 

"Sora!" Lea yelled over the music. It was cheerful. His cheeks were a rosy red to match his flaming hair. "You came!" He clapped a hand over Sora's shoulder.

 

Sora emptied the bottle, let it drop to the carpet, and put his arms around Lea's neck. When he brought his lips crashing down on Lea's, he was met with only a second's hesitation. Then Lea's long fingers were wrapping around Sora's waist, pulling him up against his equally long torso, and migrating to cup over his ass. Lea squeezed, drawing a groan from Sora's throat, and their tongues tangled in a blend of passion and the alcohol buzzing around in their bodies.

 

The music pounded so hard into Sora that it was like it was one with his heartbeat. He let Lea pick him up, and he wrapped his legs around Lea's skinny hips moments before he was shoved into the opposite wall. Someone whooped and clapped Lea on the back, making Lea laugh breathlessly into Sora's kiss, and then his teeth were on Sora's lips, and his hands were sliding beneath Sora's shirt, and Sora arched into it, taking it all.

 

When Lea pulled a familiar pill from the pocket of his skinny jeans and held it up for Sora's examination, Sora took it and swallowed it dry. Later, he'd remember flashes of things—Lea's teeth nibbling at Sora's throat, Sora himself laughing deliriously, streaks of light, the delicious heat rolling through him—but most of it would be sucked into a black hole that he welcomed with open arms.

 

Not remembering was all he could have asked for.

 

* * *

 

 

_Did you ever really love me?_

* * *

 

 

His phone.

 

It was making such a loud, incessant noise, and in seconds Sora was going to—

 

He cracked open his eyes as his hand reached out and met air. His phone was not where it was supposed to be, which was on his nightstand, which was notably absent. His head was throbbing and the light coming in through the blinds was too bright, so he shut his eyes again with a groan and rolled onto his back.

 

His. Phone. Would. Not. Stop. Ringing.

 

Sora threw an arm over his eyes and made another protesting noise.

 

God _damn_ it.

 

"No, Roxas, I'm telling you, don't go in there—!"

 

And suddenly, Sora was wide awake, his hangover be damned. He sat up in bed, and bright orange sheets fell to his waist. His naked waist.

 

He lifted his eyes just in time to see Roxas' fist swinging toward his face, Kairi screaming as she held onto his brother's other arm and tried to pull him back.

 

**_Thwack!_ **

He wanted to want to take it. He did. He deserved it—how could he _not_ have deserved it? He'd slept with his brother's boyfriend, and, honestly, it wasn't the first time. But that morning, maybe because of his pounding headache or the bullshit he was tired of sloughing through, he just… He was tired of being the proverbial punching bag. Someone's mistake, that's all he ever was. And he _let_ it happen.

 

Roxas' fist came at him again, and Sora jerked his arm up with reflexes that shouldn't have been so quick so early. He caught the fist against his palm and squeezed onto Roxas' knuckles until his brother cried out in pain. Sora's still slightly drugged mind was too bogged down to really process why Kairi was there, why she was crying, why she was yanking at Roxas.

 

"Don't, just don't, it's not worth it, come on, let's just _go—_ "

 

And if anything, that just made him angrier.

 

Roxas' face was twisted with the utmost fury. It was a face that Sora saw everyday in the mirror, because except for the hair color and different styling, it was his own. They were twins, after all, Roxas born two minutes after Sora. They were so identical, it was painful to look at old photos and think that they had once been close to the point of being inseparable.

 

" _Seriously_?!" he was screaming now at Sora.

 

Lea, until this moment, hadn't breathed a single word. But at Roxas' second yell, it seemed to penetrate into his stunned thoughts, and he leapt between the twins, notably in front of Sora, and took Roxas' next flail of fists against his chest.

 

"Stop!" Lea shook Roxas by the shoulders. "Roxy, stop!"

 

"Don't call me that, you piece of shit!" The lithe blond twisted out of his grip. Seconds later, he tried to get at Sora again, but again, Lea was there, catching him up, dragging him out of the room with one arm. No matter how hard Roxas struggled this time, he couldn't get free. Lea was a lot stronger than his thin figure would lead one to assume.

 

That left Sora and Kairi breathing heavily, her lashes lined with tears as they stared at one another. Sora's throat was tight, and he dropped his eyes. He couldn't look at her. Not like this. She had been his oldest friend, almost as old as Riku, and it was yet another relationship that he'd destroyed, like everything else in his life.

 

Because if he was going down in a sea of flames, he was taking everyone with him.

 

Without a word, Sora shoved the sheets away and rooted about for his clothes. His jeans were in a crumpled heap by the far window, so he tossed those on, the belt clinking and the change in his pocket meeting its tune. He could feel Kairi's eyes searing into him, but he wouldn't look at her. He couldn't. He couldn't deal with this shit right now.

 

"What _happened_ to you?" she whispered raggedly.

 

He didn't look up. He tugged on his red thermal, buckled up, and brushed past her.

 

She grabbed his arm. "Sora, this isn't _you_!"

 

His heart in his throat, he just stood there. He couldn't break away from her. He couldn't bring himself to. This was _Kairi_. She only deserved so much of him being an asshole.

 

When she didn't say anything further for a long moment, he turned, cupped the back of her head, and dropped a kiss to her forehead. Her eyes closed at that, her tears falling free. Her hands reached for him, but before they could touch him, he was already leaving. On his way out, he found his shoes and ignored Lea and Roxas in the corner of the living room, Roxas screaming all the curse words he could think of, Lea holding him put so he couldn't get away.

 

Sora let the door slam behind him on the way out.

 

* * *

 

 

He checked his phone when he was safely inside his Jeep and back on his own island. He had several missed calls from Riku, and, for the first time in months, texts from Kairi. Hers were inquisitive, asking if he'd seen Lea, that Roxas was really worried, that she wouldn't be bothering him otherwise but blah blah blah.

 

* * *

 

 _"What_ happened _to you?"_ whispered through his thoughts.

 

"Nothing," he said out loud, bitterly. "Nothing!"

 

 _Everything,_ he thought.

 

 _Everything_.

 

* * *

 

 

Riku was waiting for him at his apartment. He was leaning against the door, arms folded, one foot back against it, his chin dipped toward his chest. He didn't look up when Sora stopped a foot away from him.

 

Several long, silent moments passed.

 

"I need to get inside," Sora said.

 

Riku's eyes opened, their green irises peering at Sora through the fall of his bangs.

 

"Look, I know you talked to Kairi," Sora pressed on after a heartbeat. "And I can't deal with this right now. So… if you came to bitch, we'll have to talk later."

 

Riku still wouldn't move, still wouldn't speak.

 

 _For Christ's sake._ Sora went forward aggressively, intending to grab Riku and push him out of the way if he had to. It didn't work. No sooner had Sora touched him than Riku had wrapped slender fingers around his wrist and held on tight. Sora didn't bother putting up a struggle. He already knew that Riku was much stronger than him. They had established that eons ago.

 

"What," he gritted out through clenched teeth, "do you want?"

 

And then Riku's palms were gliding over Sora's cheeks, curling behind his ears, pulling his face up toward his. Sora had only a second to process what might be able to happen before Riku leaned down and brought their lips together.

 

Sora stood frozen in his arms. The kiss was so unlike the one they had shared the afternoon before. Sora had attacked his mouth on that couch, had poured all of his frustration into it. Riku had met it with equal fervor. Yet now he stood there, holding Sora like he was spun of delicate glass, and Sora's mind just couldn't piece it together.

 

He'd never been kissed like this.

 

Riku drew away enough that only an inch separated their mouths. When nothing further happened, Sora let his lashes slowly flutter open. Without realizing it, he'd put his hands on Riku's chest, and was clenching so tightly into Riku's shirt that he was straining the fabric. Not that he could concentrate on that fact for very long. Tingles were spreading down to his toes, shooting warmth afterwards to every particle in his body. It was like and unlike arousal in that he wanted to float away, high as a kite, but in a soft, fluffy way.

 

 _What the fuck?_ he thought.

 

"I should have kissed you like this back then," Riku breathed against his lips. Sora caught the taste of mint, Riku's brand of toothpaste so apparent from Sora's hypersensitivity in that moment. "I shouldn't have let you go."

 

Pretending he knew what Riku was talking about was too difficult, so Sora closed his eyes and tilted his head up, and Riku kissed him again. He was hungry. Hungry for this affection.

 

"It's because of me." The same words Riku had spoken in his kitchen not twenty-four hours ago.

 

Sora finally found his voice. "What is?"

 

"Everything."

 

The single word was so close to the one Sora harbored in his heart at that moment, that Sora couldn't breathe. All the air simply left his lungs, and he was deflating, he was crumpling to the floor, he was holding his arms over the back of his head as if to protect it from something. But the world was going to keep coming anyway, so he wasn't sure why he bothered.

 

"This isn't because of you," he rasped. Something was sitting on his chest. Something _had_ to be. Why else couldn't he suck more air back in? "It was never you."

 

"I'm not talking about this life," Riku said from above him, and Sora's head started pounding all over again.

 

"God, Riku, I can't—talk about this shit right now, I'm too—"

 

"I have to fix it," Riku spoke over him. "It's the only way."

 

Sora just gave himself over to fresh tears. There was nothing else he could do. Riku wasn't listening. Nobody ever did. Nobody looked, either. Nobody bothered to stare past this shell he was in. They couldn't see that inside he was so empty, so longing, so desperate—

 

Then Riku was picking him up off the floor, and Sora was leaning into him, and when Riku looked at him, really looked, he wasn't angry. He was… sad.

 

Sora wasn't sure which was worse, the rage, the hatred, or the pity.

 

Sora placed a steadying hand against Riku's chest and righted his feet. "I know what you're thinking. You're thinking you can save me, fix me. But I'm too broken, Riku. Don't try. You'll just cut yourself."

 

In answer, Riku grabbed Sora's keys from his hand and used them to open the door. Putting an arm around Sora's shoulder, he guided him into the apartment and led him into Sora's bedroom, where the shorter man could collapse on his messy bed.

 

"Let me get you something for that eye," Riku whispered.

 

It was the last thing Sora remembered hearing before his eyes were suddenly too heavy, and he had to give himself over to the sleepiness he'd been fighting for the better part of an hour now. He was just so exhausted. His body didn't know how to deal anymore, nor his mind.

 

Riku breathed a kiss to his brow sometime later, but that might have been part of a dream.


	8. Update Schedule

This is a probe! I've had a number of things happening to me over the last five years. It's a culmination of a lot of things, including losing a laptop, but I am back in action! I started a Star Wars story to feel things out, and I realized that when I write SHORTER CHAPTERS, the inspiration flows way more freely, and you guys get frequent updates!

 

So I realize a lot of people have wandered off. I think the fandom is dying (until they can get KH3 out), and everything else, too, but… It's killing me to leave these stories unfinished!

 

For anyone who is still here and interested, I am giving an update time!

 

Paopu Glamorous: Saturday

Buried in the Ice: Sunday

The Trigger: Monday

 

If for some reason those days fail, expect it a chapter of these at least once a week.

 

See you guys this weekend if you're still here!


	9. Paopu

 

Riku had come to a realization.

 

While it was tempting to carry on with the amount of loathing he harbored toward Sora, and had since high school, it wasn't going to solve the long-term problems. It was situations like these that had caused their lives to worsen in the first place—their "lives" being the multitude of ones they had experienced in different realities.

 

Of course, part of him still wanted to deny that these lives were even true. But they had been haunting him since his teenage years. And now they were involving Sora, and Sora had let him in on a key component that explained why there was so much misery, why the cycle kept repeating itself, worsening each run around: they had shared a paopu fruit.

 

The paopu fruit was a local legend from Destiny Islands. If two people shared one, their destinies would be intertwined forever. Cliché? A little. A notion hundreds of girls subjected their boyfriends to each year? Definitely. Reports of it actually _working_? Nonexistent.

 

Until now.

 

There was still plenty Riku hadn't told Sora. He hadn't, after all, lied about it being his fault that Sora was in his current state of agony, no matter what the other man thought. The truth of it had revealed itself in Riku's dreams, night after night. It was only the trickle effect that had eluded Riku. Why would one tragic moment branch into so many threads that continuously tied them together, no matter where their souls happened to reappear?

 

This didn't mean it would be particularly easy righting things. But _someone_ had to do it. If that meant setting aside his own personal grievances acquired in this reality, then he'd swallow his pride and he'd get to work.

 

The only problem?

 

It was going to take two people to fix this, and the other factor in the equation was having trouble just swallowing the fact that he'd had a lifelike dream in the middle of the day.

 

Kairi, inevitably, called him. They spoke every day, for the most part. Riku had been expecting the call since that morning, when Kairi and Roxas had been a useless mess over wherever Lea could be hiding. Why no one had thought to check the man's actual _house_ was beyond him, but Riku didn't spend much time ruminating on such things when he had more pressing matters to deal with.

 

Like the fact that he was siding with Sora on this, and Kairi couldn't believe it.

 

"He _slept_ with Rox's boyfriend, Riku!" Kairi's voice had lowered, like she'd put her hand over the receiver to hide whatever she was talking about. Roxas must have been in the vicinity.

 

"I know," Riku said quietly.

 

"You know, and you're _still—_?"

 

"You know as well as I do that Sora needs help." Riku glanced over at Sora's prone form. He hadn't stirred since Riku had returned with an icepack for that swelling eye.

 

What kind of help he needed, well, that was up to Kairi's interpretation.

 

"Oh, Riku," Kairi sighed, and it crackled over the line. There was silence then, a moment that spanned into several and ticked into close to two minutes. When Kairi finally spoke again, it was so softly Riku almost didn't catch it, "He hurt you so much last time."

 

He didn't say anything.

 

"But if I know you," Kairi continued wearily, "and I do know you, Riku, you'd never abandon a friend in need, and Sora needs you more than anybody right now. If anyone can get through to him, it's you."

 

Riku leaned against the wall in Sora's room closest to the door, crossing one arm across his chest. But he smiled a little. He appreciated Kairi's words. They would make the coming days a little easier to bear.

 

"I'll manage damage control over here while I can." Wry amusement coated her voice. "I can't make any promises, Riku."

 

"I wouldn't want you to," Riku replied. "If Roxas gets free and punches Sora again, Sora had it coming."

 

At that, Kairi laughed outright. The sound of it was bright and cheery enough that it brought an answering chuckle from Riku's lips.

 

"Give him a kiss from me?" Kairi whispered after a time.

 

"Yeah."

 

After they had signed off, Riku pocketed his phone and leaned over Sora. He studied him for a long moment, musing over how innocent Sora looked while asleep, hiding the new front he put on for the world.

 

Riku stroked Sora's hair off his brow and brushed a kiss there.

 

"From Kairi," he murmured.

 

* * *

 

 

The scene was always the same.

 

Sora standing there, looking so vulnerable, his arms crossed, the sleeves of his sweater so long they covered up to his fingernails. His big, blue eyes upturned to Riku as they stood within Riku's small apartment by the shore and listened to the tide coming in, eroding more of the beach as winter settled over the islands.

 

_"I just… I just thought… maybe we could share a paopu…"_

 

Though his lips moved, no sound came out. Riku knew what he was saying regardless. Sometimes Sora was muted like this, other times he seemed to scream the words into the stillness. But usually, it was how he originally spoke them, whispered and afraid.

 

 _"It seems stupid, doesn't it…?"_ Sora dropped his eyes to the floor and touched his hand over the back of his neck. A wistful smile took over the length of his mouth. It drew Riku closer, made him reach out and trace it with the pad of his thumb.

 

 _"I'm just surprised you're being so shy about it,"_ Riku laughed quietly.

 

At that, Sora knotted his brows and glared up at Riku in a look so familiar it made Riku's heart hurt. _"Fine, you jerk. Share a paopu fruit with me. Or else."_

 

 _"Or else?"_ This made Riku laugh outright, and he had to put a hand over his side as it cramped up from the force of it.

 

Sora puffed up and put his fists on his hips. _"Oh, just because you're a Keyblade Master now, you think you get to make fun of me?"_

 

 _"No,"_ Riku gasped between chuckles, _"I just think you're never going to look menacing."_

 

Sora waited impatiently for Riku to calm himself, but when Riku did, the words he spoke were not ones Sora had wanted to hear.

 

 _"I can't,"_ he said, not looking at his brunet friend, _"We can't."_

 

 _"But why?"_ Sora protested.

 

_"You don't want to tie yourself to me, Sora. I'm too broken."_

_"Isn't that for me to decide?!"_

They would argue for hours, but the result was always the same. Sora ran out of the apartment, and Riku let him go, and their friendship was shattered irreparably. They still battled together, still had one another's backs. There was just a distance there that Riku could never breach again.

 

Or so Riku had thought until the day before in his kitchen, when Sora had told him something to rattle him to the marrow in his bones.

 

They _had_ shared a paopu fruit.

 

But when?

 

And why hadn't Riku dreamt that memory yet?

 

* * *

 

 

"Where are you going?"

 

Riku glanced at Sora as he put his wallet into his back pocket with his phone and collected his keys. "I have to be up early tomorrow. Interning."

 

The brunet blinked tiredly. He shrugged his blanket over his shoulders and rose into a sitting position, wearing the blanket like a shawl. "You weren't gonna say goodbye?"

 

Riku paused and licked his lips. Then he drew his fingers through his long hair. "I wasn't sure if I should wake you or not."

 

The other boy got to his feet, stumbling over to Riku and putting his arms around him. Riku froze just a little bit—Sora was hugging him voluntarily—but wound his arms around Sora's waist. Sora made a sleepy noise and rested his cheek against Riku's chest. Riku was trying not to let his heart melt. Sora was adorable, as always, but he'd hurt Riku so much…

 

_Didn't you just tell yourself you weren't going to let that stand in the way anymore?_

Riku put his hand to Sora's head. "I've gotta go, okay?"

 

"Riku, do you remember when we were younger, and we'd spend the night every night, and you'd let me curl up in bed with you?" Sora mumbled.

 

But of course, nothing was ever easy.

 

"Sounds familiar," Riku said. Of course, he knew exactly what Sora was talking about. He'd relived those moments so many times through high school. Had held onto them as hope that Sora would return his feelings when the time came…

 

"Stay?" was all Sora said.

 

Curse Riku's soft, soft heart. What would Kairi think if she could see him now? Kairi, the person who had comforted him when Sora had split from the group. When he'd crushed Riku's—

 

"I—Sora, I can't… it wouldn't mean anything. I can't… I can't do that to myself. Not right now."

 

Sora tilted his head back and fixed stubborn blue eyes on Riku's. "Who said it wouldn't mean anything?"

 

Riku gave him a look. "You just woke up in Lea's bed. You slept with your brother's boyfriend, Sora."

 

The shorter boy broke out of the embrace. He got rid of his blanket in a huff, scowled at Riku, and walked into his kitchen. Riku turned slightly with him to keep him in sight. Sora poured himself a healthy glass of tap water and then started to chug it.

 

"Okay," Riku murmured. "Bye, Sora."

 

He'd made it to the door when Sora's soft voice cut across the living room.

 

"I have a long history with Lea. He… He was the first person I ever slept with… We were both drunk… I think… I think it's just because I look like Roxas…"

 

Riku lifted his head slowly.

 

"We saw each other in secret for a while, and then it fell apart. Well… I made it. I didn't want to be involved with Lea anymore. Not because of Roxas, I don't give two fucks about that. But because I had feelings for Lea, and it wasn't going anywhere."

 

"When was this?" Riku asked.

 

"In high school. Like, three months before you confessed to me."

 

"You told me you weren't—"

 

"I know what I told you." Sora sighed. There was the sound of his glass being put in the sink. "I was ashamed and embarrassed, and I was still in love with Lea."

 

Riku didn't know how to process that. He stared at the door, as if it held the answers.

 

"Riku, I'm fucked up, okay? I'm a fucking mess. But… you don't deserve the way I treated you."

 

"I don't," Riku murmured.

 

And then he walked out.

 

He had a lot of think about.


End file.
